Home
by audreyslove
Summary: After a whirlwind engagement to Daniel, Regina struggles to follow him and leave the people, job, and places that she has come to call home for the last few years. Written for the OQ Advent Calendar, based on an absolutely gorgeous manip by @starscythe.
1. Chapter 1

"Let me see the ring!" Mary Margaret exclaims. "Oh my god, you must have been so surprised!"

"I was," Regina says with a smile, holding her hand out for Mary's inspection.

"It was a hard secret to keep! I mean, knowing that everyone knew but you, I thought it was so romantic, but I was terrified someone would slip the news!" Mary Margaret laughs, still staring at Regina's perfect ring.

Robin offers her a little smile but says nothing. He knows very well that Daniel was planning to propose immediately before he left for LA. A romantic gesture, in Daniel's eyes, though in Robin's it seemed a bit cruel. Regina had prepared herself for a long distance relationship for months. Daniel was so obsessed with faking her out that he even insisted she not bother looking for jobs in LA, that she should not uproot her life for him.

All part of the misdirect, so when he popped the question, he could say he truly surprised her.

Daniel is Robin's friend, but, well, sometimes he really hates the guy. Often, it seems, when it involves matters of Regina Mills.

She makes her way around the room, but she won't come to him yet, he knows. She will say her hellos to everyone else first, then come over to the little two-top table in the corner he's parked himself at and decompress for a bit with him.

He waits, watches her as she makes her way, that fake smile plastered on her face as she gives hug after hug, continues to hold out her ring finger for those who ask.

"Did you know about this?" Regina asks as she sits next to him. She's sweeping her hair back to the side, a nervous habit Robin finds adorable. Her hair is so long these days, it does tend to go everywhere. It's actually quite adorable.

Robin and a few others were instructed to wait for her here, at the little bar in town. Daniel was to send Regina there after he got on his flight, so she could celebrate their engagement… without him. Fuck, Robin doesn't get Daniel at all.

Robin wants to tell her he knew all along, that he had tried to talk him out of it for months, arguing that it was idiotic, and completely _not_ Regina's style. He wants to tell her when Daniel refused to listen to reason he at least got him to agree to go ring shopping, that the ring on her finger is one Robin helped pick out. And nearly every gift she's ever received that's meant anything has been from him, and he's really tired of it.

But he's a good friend, so he only nods, hands her the old fashioned he had ordered for her and kept waiting.

She sits down and sighs, sitting with her glass of sparkling wine aside.

"I seriously love you for this."

She's pointing to the drink in her hand and drinking it down in heavy gulps. She didn't mean it _that_ way, but his heart still knocks hard at her words.

It's been years since he accepted the truth. She doesn't look at him that way; she never did.

And she's with his friend.

 _Engaged_ to his friend.j

He gave her up a long time ago, it's just residual emotion that pings at certain moments, his past crush rearing its ugly head at the worst of times.

"I figured you could use a drink and some quiet," he says with a smile. "I know this really isn't…"

"What I pictured?" she asks. "Yeah, funny, I thought I'd be able to spend time with my fiancé after he proposes. He left ten minutes afterward instead. It's okay, I get it, he's a romantic, he's all about these big surprise gestures, but I thought maybe our engagement would be about us instead of…" she motions towards the room. "All of this."

He nods at her sympathetically. "He'll be back soon. To visit. At least, I'm sure of it." That's the only consolation he can really offer.

"You tried to talk him out of this, didn't you?" she asks, tilting her head in that adorable way she does when she's realizing something.

"He likes this sort of thing. He _loves_ surprising you."

"Mmm," she draws, staring off into the distance. "I know, it's sweet." But she doesn't sound like she believes her words, not at all.

He hates that he's in the position here to talk up and defend idiotic Daniel. He means well, he really does, but he never really understood Regina.

Daniel only ever showed interest in Regina because Robin wanted her first, had yearned for her when things were cooling (but not quite cold) with Marian.

And his attentive efforts had drawn Daniel's eye.

One evening at happy hour, she sat with them for a while, laughed and exchanged coy, flirtatious smiles Robin had stupidly thought were for him. It was a childish thing for a twenty-three-year-old to say, but when she excused herself to the restroom, Daniel had simply turned to his friends and called "dibs" on Regina.

Robin couldn't argue then. He liked her — far too much, he realizes now, but if he had told Daniel that he would have been admitting to everyone (including himself) that he was emotionally disconnected with Marian.

He wasn't ready, at that point.

So he let her go. And it was agony, at first, watching Regina fall for Daniel, watching him exploit everything Robin knew of her, had shared with him. Every thought he shared, every perspective on a fight they might have, only made them stronger. Marian and Robin completely fell apart two months later, and that's when the pain burned the brightest, when he was alone and realizing the relationship he so honorably stayed in was nothing more than a sham.

But that was years ago. The yearning for her is gone, and he only cares for her as a supportive friend.

That's all.

A supportive friend who knows her well. And he kicks himself when he's unable to stop a woman from coming up to hug and squeal to Regina, asking to again see her ring. She does what she has to do, smiles and tries to act giddy and carefree.

When the girl leaves, Regina chugs the rest of her drink.

"I'm really uncomfortable," she whispers, looking around her. "I just… I hate surprise parties and this is a surprise engagement on top of a surprise party, without my fiancé to celebrate it with me."

"You want to fake an illness and get out of here?" he asks. "I'll cover for you."

"No… Daniel went to a lot of trouble," she sighs. "I'm being a brat. This was really nice of him."

"You're not being a brat." He squeezes her hand because that's all he can do. Then he bites his lip to keep from saying anything more.

Then a waiter comes up and hands her another old fashioned.

"I've been told to make sure you're not without a drink the whole night," the waiter laughs.

Regina raises an eyebrow at Robin and he just shrugs.

"Daniel told me to take care of you," he admits with a smile.

.::.

Regina is happy, really. The love of her life proposed to her, something she had once hoped for desperately. To be frank, it's something she had stopped hoping for some time ago.

And that's because Daniel psyched her out, she knew. So when he proposed she wouldn't expect it. It's so very Daniel, he loves this sort of stuff. And all of her friends are so in love with these over the top actions.

She could write about his proposal for a wedding magazine and make an entire population of bride-to-be jealous. But these big grand gestures where all her friends and family are in on the surprise really make her feel… overexposed, instead of excited and happy.

Daniel says she's shy, that she just needs to get more comfortable with being in the spotlight, that it will happen. She feels like she's disappointing him, somehow, by not enjoying this.

She can't share her feelings with everyone but can with her best friend. And Robin is her best friend — he just doesn't know it.

She may see other people more, spend more time with them, even talk to them more. But Robin is the one she shares the most of herself with, has the most conversations of value.

He has been her best friend since their first day at Pan Industries. They work in completely different departments, but when they first showed up at the huge pharmaceutical complex, they shared an orientation tour that led to a deep friendship. She's in the labs, designing and developing new drugs, while Robin works in the marketing department. But they somehow complement one another very well and have gotten along from the moment they met.

Back then, when he invited her to lunches and drinks, she had thought Robin might have been fixing to ask her out. But then she found out about Marian and realized he had only been feeling her out to set her up with his friend, Daniel.

And Robin was right; she and Daniel are a better fit for a relationship. He challenges her, he pushes her to get out of her own shell. He's going to make her a better person.

Robin is more of a supportive friend who is happy with her as she is.

One she will absolutely _hate_ not seeing every day when she moves to LA to be with Daniel.

But change is good, Daniel says, it's good to get out of your comfort zone. And her comfort zone is here, in suburban New Jersey, where there are real friends and real seasons. LA will be different, and it doesn't sound like something she _wants_ to do, but that's only her fear of change talking. She has to get better about that.

"So do you have a plan?" Robin asks. "For, um, how this marriage will work. I know you were doing long distance before he gave you the ring, but…"

"We didn't really get a chance to talk about it," she sighs. She needs to stop sounding so annoyed about this. "He proposed to me at the literal last moment. I had already said goodbye and turned around so he couldn't see my crying, and then he grabbed me, got down on one knee, proposed in that crowded airport, and then had to rush through airport security to make his flight."

She chuckles darkly, taking a swig of her drink. Robin laughs a bit too.

"That sounds like Daniel," he grins.

"Yeah, that's him. He did say he wants me to start looking at jobs in LA so… I guess I will."

"You don't sound very enthused," Robin notes.

"I like it here," Regina admits. "Good friends, good food, a nice, cold winter, and a nice hot summer. Beaches and forest and close enough to the city… and I love my job. What's not to like?"

"I like you here, too," he says, his smile not meeting his eyes. "But it will be good. I'm sure you didn't think New Jersey would be your dream destination, and yet, you had fun here, right? Maybe the same thing will happen to LA."

It's true. When she got the job at Pan she had hoped she'd be working out of the NYC office, and she was incredibly disappointed to find she'd be holed up in a bleak little town in New Jersey.

She was sure she would hate it, yet in a few short months, she decided she never wanted to leave.

"I don't think I'll get this lucky again, but maybe you are right," she muses.

He smiles, then looks behind her at something and frowns.

"Go chat with some people for a bit, then come back here, it'll be your safe spot. If you are here much longer people will get antsy and start interrupting us and coming up to you and it will no longer be your little hideaway."

She laughs at how well he knows her, toasts to him then makes her way through the crowd.

Robin stays at that little two top table the whole night. He doesn't have to — he has plenty of friends here and unlike Regina, Robin is very outgoing, finds crowds exciting instead of draining. He stays there, she thinks, so she always has a place to rest and recharge.

Bless him.

She uses it, making her way back at every chance she gets (she's just not in the mood for all of this, and feigning excitement is draining).

Robin's always there with a sympathetic ear and a cool glass of liquor.

He's the reason she makes it through the night.

.::.

"So how's it going, babe?"

Daniel is on the phone, sounding so upbeat and smug.

"Great. I'm just taking a relaxing bath, enjoying the way my ring looks in the candlelight," she sighs, staring at the brilliant cut solitaire. He did good, with that.

"You be careful with that, don't let it fall down the drain," he warns, and she's happy he can't see her roll her eyes.

It's been two weeks since their engagement day, and they've yet to have a conversation of substance. He's been so busy in LA, and she's been…

She's something, she doesn't know what.

She's suddenly so nervous when he calls, looking for ways to excuse herself.

She's never liked the phone much so it's not a surprise she's uncomfortable. They've never had to do long distance before, so perhaps she never realized how much her phone phobia has inhibited her until now.

But of course, she's also deliberately tried to avoid the conversation of setting a date.

She has cold feet, it seems.

"So how're the job prospects looking for LA? You find any labs in the area looking for a stunning scientist?"

"There are a few places," she sighs, but can't help but adding, "nothing as prestigious as Pan, of course."

"Relax, I'm making _plenty_ of money here. You don't need a job that pays that well. You can take any job at a medical lab, with your resume it won't take long at all. Maybe soon you won't have to work at all. I can take care of both of us."

But it's not about that. She doesn't care about the money. She wants to work on something innovative. She doesn't want to be doing urine tests all day.

"I'm looking," she lies. But she isn't at all. "Maybe if I get some time off I can come to LA to visit? It's weird being engaged and not being able to see your fiancé… I miss you."

"Yeah! That'd be great!" Daniel pauses for a bit before adding, "but you know I _just_ moved, I'm still settling. I guess I kind of thought you'd give your two weeks notice, pack things up, find a subletter, and move here in a month or so. A visit would be great, but maybe it's best you knock everything out real quick and come move over here for good."

There's that sense of dread washing over her in a tidal wave.

A month. He expects her to uproot her entire life and move across the country in a _month._

She will have to say goodbye to _everything._

And neither Daniel or she really have any ties to the area, so once she leaves, that will be it.

"Daniel, I am not just going to give two weeks notice and be out," she says, trying to keep calm. "I'm on that clinical study for the new trial drug I told you about, and it's amazing and challenging, and I _really_ want to see it through."

"Oh, well how long will that take?" Daniel asks.

"Three months." It may take more than that, honestly. But three months is a start.

"So what, you'd finish up by Christmas?"

"By New Year's maybe."

"Do you really need to stay that long? Surely someone else can take over."

"I don't _have_ to, I _want_ to," Regina all but growls back at the phone. "Daniel, this is a _big_ change. You're asking me to move after months of telling me all the reasons I should stay. And you've never even asked me what _I_ want."

"I did ask. When I asked you to marry me, that was me asking you, wasn't it?"

Her heart beats faster as she realizes he's right. If she didn't want to move, if she didn't want LA, she should have said no.

She loves him far too much to end things. More than the town that she loves, more than all the people in it.

"I want to marry you, I just… I need some time to say goodbye to everything and everyone. Daniel, it's a _lot."_

His voice is more sympathetic then. "I know, babe. Trust me, I get how hard change is for you. But it will be good. You just need to adjust. What do you need to make this work? I'm here to help."

He's not here, not at all, but he's trying.

"I just need time. For some sense of closure, I don't know. Let me do it on my terms."

She pleads her case, and Daniel is kind enough to grant her what she needs. She can take her time adjusting, getting ready to move on.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, how is wedding planning going?" Mary Margaret is a fellow fiancé, someone who has gone berserk with wedding planning herself. And she's brimming with excitement. To the level that it is nauseating.

"Jesus, he _just_ asked me!" Regina mutters.

Mary Margaret just ignores her. "Yes, but you want to plan your special day as soon as possible, and do you guys even have a _location_ yet? I mean - it could be anywhere! A destination wedding, an LA wedding, and oh my god a Maine wedding would be _beautiful."_

"I really haven't given it much thought," Regina lies.

She really wants to be married. She does. She's always pictured herself married to a man like Daniel. Someone who will bring out the best in her.

She wants married life to start.

She just doesn't want to move away from a place that already feels like _home_ to her.

"What type of wedding did you always dream about when you were a little girl?" Mary Margaret asks excitedly. "Let's go from there."

"I never…" She drifts off, wondering if she's ever given any thought to her wedding. She has, she supposes, particularly when she was a lonely elementary school-aged girl. It was always more about the marriage than the wedding, of finding that special someone who would make her feel safe and complete. But the ceremony and the party were never really fleshed out. "I really only ever thought about _who_ was there, not the decorations or the party…" Mary Margaret looks positively horrified, and Regina feels terrible admitting something to the girl for some reason, and quickly follows it up with, "I'm sorry, I guess I failed that part of childhood."

"No," Mary Margaret waves her hand as if she's trying not to make such a big deal out of what she clearly thinks is a travesty of epic proportions, "No, it's nothing to apologize for. I can work with that. Who did you always picture being there?"

Regina frowns, thinking of her life in Maine — lonely and isolated despite being full of family and her parent's friends. That community wasn't what she envisioned for her wedding. "I guess… I saw myself surrounded by people who understand me, people I didn't have to impress or change for, people who would be there _for me_ , instead of anyone else. Somewhere we'd all feel comfortable."

Mary Margaret smiles, her eyes widening.

"What?" Regina asks, perplexed at the idea such little information had given her such a reaction.

"Well I'm excited beyond belief, but your parents won't be happy, because New Jersey weddings cost a _fortune."_

"Here?" she asks. She'd only lived here a few years, for a job she'd soon be leaving. She had no real roots, and she knows what mother would say — this area will be only a blip on the radar of her life. It would make no sense to…

… But it feels so right, so much more so than marrying any other place.

"It's packed full of your friends, who love you for you, and there's something very romantic about marrying in the same town where you first met."

"I'm not sure Daniel will like it," she admits. "He wants me out of here in three months."

"Well, you can't plan a wedding in three months," Mary Margaret bristles, staring into her coffee. "But we can get the details sorted, and then you can fly back here for the wedding, right?"

"I…" She tried to argue that it's silly for her to get married here. By the time they picked a date and set everything up, she would have moved to LA and it would essentially be a destination wedding for them. She'd be in a familiar place surrounded by familiar people, all her friends from work, close to Robin... and wedding planning would be so much _easier._

"I'll talk to Daniel," she shrugs. "If he's okay with it I'm sure I can convince my mother."

"You're the bride. You get what you want. Those are the rules." Mary Margaret grabs her coffee and sips it through a cheesy grin. "What time of year do you want, by the way? May, June?"

Regina wrinkles her nose. "I don't know. I've always liked Autumn more than Spring or Summer, but..."

"Perfect, places won't be as busy and we'd have a whole year to plan!" she squeals.

Regina tries not to roll her eyes as Mary Margaret reaches into her tote and picks out three big wedding magazines with tons of tabs sloppily sticking out of the pages.

God is it hot in here? When was she already setting dates and talking about venues? She needed to slow down, she needed to breathe.

"Now let's talk dresses…" Mary Margaret says. She flips to a particularly… big dress, frilly and decadent, bundles of lace and tulle spilling around her.

Regina tried not to wince, tells herself to remember to breathe.

"Now that just screams 'Regina'," says a familiar voice behind her.

Robin points at the dress, whispering in her ear, "Please tell me you will try that on for me. I need a picture of it."

"Robin, go away!" Mary Margaret shoos, "this is woman stuff. Your opinion isn't wanted here." She's a bit offended that he mocked the dress, it seems, but Robin has this charming way about him, and Mary Margaret is even smiling as she motions him away.

Regina looks behind her to catch him making a silly little face at Mary Margaret.

God, he's far too good looking. It's almost obnoxious.

"Who says his opinion is unwanted?" Regina asks. "Robin, pull up a chair, I could use your input."

Mary Margaret, it seems, is not entirely amused by the suggestion. " _His_ input? He doesn't know anything about weddings! Regina, he is a _guy."_

Regina snorts as Robin slides up a chair. "Now what were we talking about?"

"Regina has decided to have an autumn wedding," Mary Margaret says matter-of-factory, with a confidence that makes even Regina believe her.

"Autumn?" Robin frowns. "That's um, rather soon…"

There's something in his expression she can't quite place, disapproval, maybe, with her choice.

"Not this year, dummy," Mary Margaret scoff. "Next autumn."

"Oh," Robin brightens. "How festive."

"Mm," Regina shrugs. "It is my favorite season, I guess it fits."

Mary Margaret's surly expression is gone, replaced by something a bit more sly. "I bet Robin will be excited to hear where you are having a wedding," she hums, causing Robin to almost spit out his coffee.

"You've already picked a place?" he asks incredulously.

There's that disapproval again, or… this time he just looks disappointed.

"Not a venue, but the area," Mary Margaret's eyes sparkle as she raises her eyebrows and encourages Regina to tell him.

Fine.

"Mary Margaret thinks I should get married around here," she explains timidly. "I wouldn't say I had completely decided and I haven't even asked Daniel—"

"That's great!" Robin's hand finds hers to squeeze it. "So we get you for another year, then?"

"No, I…" she takes in a deep breath. "Daniel wants me in California right away. I'm going to finish up the latest trial and then move."

Robin isn't even in her department and everything he has heard of that drug trial has come from her ramblings.

But she doesn't have to elaborate, he knows. He always listens to those little details, always feigns interest in those mundane details of her day, even asks follow up questions about it, despite him not knowing much about chemistry or medical trials.

"So… you'd leave by the end of the year."

"Yeah," she nods. "New year, new start, right?"

Robin isn't smiling and agreeing, though.

"I'm going to miss you. I didn't realize it would be that soon."

She chuckles darkly. "Not as soon as it could be. He wanted me to give my two weeks notice and move over there in under a month. But I couldn't, I—"

"Of course not, that new drug sounds amazing and you've been so excited about the testing," Robin says softly. "And Jesus, that's a bit much to ask, to have you moving across the country in two weeks, uprooting you from your entire life."

"Maybe it's romantic that he wanted you over there so quickly," Mary Margaret chirps, upbeat and sunny as ever. "I mean not entirely realistic of a thing to ask, but it's because he loves you so much he can't wait to have you there, right?"

"If he hadn't been obsessed with a surprise engagement, he could have told me he wanted me with him months ago, and we wouldn't have had _any_ time apart," Regina points out, and Mary Margaret can only shrug.

Regina is upset over this, she realizes. For the last few weeks, she's been _trying_ not to be, but she is hurt. Daniel convinced her over a series of months that she shouldn't uproot her life for him, that she was happy here. He told her they'd work out a solution to the distance later, but she should stay here with her friends.

He did such a damn good job of convincing her that she believed it.

And it was only so she wouldn't expect the proposal, but the fact of the matter is she bought all his arguments and had been appreciating this place more than ever.

It was a cruel fucking trick he pulled on her and did he even care that it might backfire?

She feels the rage boiling inside her, all of the sudden, right here in public, where she can't exactly get it out.

She's focusing so much on quelling the fiery anger inside of her she doesn't notice Mary Margaret checking a phone alarm with a startled sigh.

"Shit, I completely forgot I said I'd meet Ruby for yoga," Mary Margaret groans. "I didn't bring my workout clothes, I'm going to have to run home first — Regina I am so sorry, we're going to talk more about this, okay?"

"Of course," she says, trying to smile as she hugs her goodbye, trying not to let her sudden mood change show through.

And then Mary Margaret is gone and she can breathe.

"Want to talk about it?" Robin asks, sipping his coffee slowly.

"Talk about what?"

"Something upset you, just now. It's like a stormcloud just drifted over your face," he says, staring at her with this soft expression she's come to love.

"If I get into it now…" she looks around her, at familiar faces and strangers packed into the coffee place. "I just don't want to cause a scene."

Robin nods and stands up. For a split second, she thinks he's misunderstood and thinks she wants him to leave. She doesn't want that at all, quite frankly she _needs_ him close to her, needs someone, at this moment. But before she can rush to explain, Robin is holding his hand out to her. "Come on, let's go to my place for a bit. It's a nice day for a walk. And you need to talk."

She really, really does, god bless him.

She takes his hand and follows him out the door.

.::.

Robin lives in those luxury apartments downtown on the water. It's a complete waste of money, frankly, but she knows he likes being able to walk to work, to the bars and nightlife. Plus the PATH is there to take him into NYC… and hell, there's a certain prestige with living at this apartment that Regina _knows_ he uses to his advantage. Women love the place. She's seen him talk a few into coming home with him over the years, though she tries not to bear witness to that. It always made her feel… awful, really. She's always been with Daniel during these times, so it's not jealousy or anything. Robin was her first crush in the city and perhaps it's a blow to her ego that he never thought of her that way yet was so clearly captivated by so many other women.

In any case, she took those disappointed moments out on this apartment and decided she hated it. It's really a gorgeous place, but…

Entering the modern, opulent lobby she spots a gaggle of men dressed in designer, pastel clothes who look like they belong on a yacht somewhere (at least that is the look they are trying so hard to cultivate). She can't help but roll her eyes and sigh disapprovingly. Robin chuckles.

"So I suppose now I can finally stop trying to convince you and Daniel to move in here."

Regina gives him a death glare that draws out an adorable laugh.

"It's just that this place is so pretentious," she whispers under her breath. "It doesn't feel like you at all."

"I'm taking that as a compliment," he smiles, leading her into the elevator.

She's going to miss his smile, oddly. It's so genuine, so real, the corners of his eyes crinkle and it draws out dimples in his face… she's gotten used to seeing a million things in this town, and Robin's smile is definitely one of them.

It sounds too weird to say that out loud, so she says nothing at all, just grabs his hand and squeezes it for a moment, letting the emotion well up in her chest and then slowly dissipate.

His apartment is a bit cluttered but clean. Amazon boxes are piled up by the counter, she assumes ready to be taken out to recycling. He runs to throw a towel into the bedroom and then takes a few glasses and a bowl into the sink.

She's been to his apartment without planning on it, it strikes her as odd he still gets nervous as to the state of things.

"Take a seat," he motions, over to the couches. "Do you want anything to drink? Something a bit stronger than coffee?"

He has an impressive liquor selection, and she really _does_ want a drink. But it's mid-day and she's not so sure she wants to leave her car in a downtown garage overnight.

"I'd love a glass of wine," she admits looking over at the opened bottle on the counter.

"Red?" he points to it, and she nods.

He pours two glasses (she never likes to drink alone, and she loves that he knows that).

"So…" he says, taking a seat and clinking his glass against hers. "What's going on?"

She bites her lip and considers not telling him at all, because it is going to sound awful.

But it's Robin, and she needs to talk about this.

"I'm angry at him," she admits, and no, this is more than angry. "I'm _livid_." she corrects. "At Daniel."

He looks so concerned but says nothing, just appears to urge her to speak more. But she's washed over with guilt and rushes to amend. "I know this is awkward, me complaining about your best friend—"

"You're my best friend."

Robin's hand is in her hair, just for a second, just to tuck a few strands of hair behind her ear, so he can fully look her in the eyes.

She's too stunned to even process what that could mean.

"You've known Daniel for years, he's your—"

"He's my good friend. But you and I are better friends than he and I ever were. I figured that was obvious. Daniel and I don't exactly have the relationship you and I do. At least, we haven't for years."

She frowns. "What changed? I mean when we first met, and you fixed me up with him—"

She's interrupted by a snort that Robin tries to hide by chugging his wine.

"What?" she asks.

Robin just shakes his head. "It's nothing. My point is I'm friends with you both, I love you both. But _you're_ my best friend. Anything you want to tell me, I'm here for you."

It's not the first time he's been there for her in this relationship, not the first time she's complained about something, or revealed some insecurity, but this is… this is more serious.

"I wanted to come with him to California when he was job searching. I offered to, _months_ ago."

"I remember," Robin frowns, "I remember, he told you not to even consider it."

"I thought he didn't want me with him. I spent months just thinking that maybe he didn't plan on being in LA that long, or maybe… he didn't plan on being with _me_ that long."

"I know. I told him this was a shit idea. He's a huge fan of the fake out."

"It was cruel. And he knows I hate surprises. This was all about him. His idea to fool me so everyone thinks he is such a clever guy, and everyone thinks it's romantic and he doesn't even care how this makes _me_ feel."

"How do you feel?" Robin asks.

"Unimportant," she admits, and that's true, it _is_ how she feels. "Like he has this giant plan for his life and mine but it doesn't really factor in my thoughts or feelings. He wanted me to give two weeks notice and just, just pack up my life in an instant. After _months_ of telling me my place is here. And he actually got me to think about it and I agreed with him. I started appreciating this place, realizing it felt like home. And now—"

Robin's hand rubs down her back as he lets out a sigh. "You don't have to go, Regina."

"Of course I do. I love him," She does, and that's what makes it all the harder, her love for him. "What are we going to do? Be a married couple who live on opposite coasts? He's excited about this new job, I can't ask him to move back for me."

Robin contemplates her words, contemplating before he speaks softly and slowly. "You're excited about your current job. And you love it here. Why are we only concerned with Daniel's career path and Daniel's life here?"

Regina bites her lip. She knows he has a point. It's something she's thought about several times. She ain't sure how to answer Rovin, so she doesn't. Instead, she looks at him with nothing but fear in her eyes.

Robin adds, " There are a ton of public relations jobs in New York, you know."

"I know," she says quietly.

"Only the top firms in the entire country," he grumbles.

"Yeah. But that wasn't what he wanted."

"Well, it's not all about him, is it? And you don't have to keep letting him think it is. You should tell him how upset you are."

"I tried," she admits. "But you know how he is, he just doesn't understand."

"Make him understand," Robin suggests. "I don't get you, you know. You can be so bold, I've never known you to be afraid to speak your mind on any issue unless it's around him."

"He's my fiancé," she reminds.

"Right, so you should feel even more free to speak your mind, right?"

"I have to consider his feelings. I don't want him to be…" She catches herself before she says the word _disappointed_ because she knows it's wrong, ludicrous even. She'd snap at Mary Margaret if she ever voiced such an opinion about David. God, what's wrong with her?

"I don't think I know how to be in a relationship," she says instead, lying back against the couch with a sad laugh. "I'm not sure how I managed to get engaged with how awful I am at this."

"Stop overthinking it and worrying about what you think you _should_ do and do what you _want_ to," Robin urges. "Of course that's coming from me, the relationship expert."

Regina snorts, leans forward and takes the bottle of wine on the coffee table and gives herself another generous pour.

"You've always seemed like a relationship type to me, honestly. After you finish enjoying your bachelor life, I bet you find someone amazing. I wouldn't be surprised if I come back to visit one day and find you married and fixing up to move to the suburbs."

He goes a bit serious, shaking his head slowly. "I wouldn't count on it. And don't talk as if we suddenly won't be in each other's lives when you move away. I expect to hear from you every day."

She chuckles and shakes her head. "Okay, Dad," she teases.

Robin raises his eyebrow and taps her playfully. "I mean it. Not in a paternal way, either. In an 'I'm going to miss my best friend horribly so she better humor me and tell me every detail about her new life' kind of way."

"I think I'm getting cold feet," she says out of nowhere, but the tension is leaving her chest and it feels so _wonderful_ to confess.

"I don't think you can get cold feet before you've even picked a wedding date," he says softly, looking at her so sweetly. He understands, he does.

"Mary Margaret is so excited to marry David, she has these planning books all set out, and she's asking me questions… honestly, before you interrupted us I thought I was going to have a panic attack. I don't know. Shouldn't I be more… excited? But I'm just nervous— about the move, about the wedding..." she lets out a sigh and adds, "even about being married."

Her eyes are getting misty, and she'd be embarrassed by her tears if she was in front of anyone but Robin. Instead, she just lets herself take the comfort he offers, his hand moving around her shoulders, urging her to lean into him. She wraps her arms around him as well, sighing into his shoulder and inhaling the familiar scent of laundry detergent and pine.

"You have to talk to him about this," he says, almost pleads. "You're probably feeling this way because you haven't been entirely honest. Tell him, remind him that you are equally important in this relationship and he can't just assume you're fine with whatever he plans."

"I… don't think I know how," she admits. "Just recently we've been out of synch and I'm almost afraid to make things worse, especially with the distance between us."

"What are you scared of?" Robin asks, "A fight? The woman I know would rise to the challenge."

"He could break up with me," Regina mutters, "decide the whole thing isn't worth it and I'd lose him just because I can't properly explain how I'm feeling right now."

Robin snorts. "He wouldn't dare. He knows how fucking lucky he is to have you."

"Please. We both know I'm not the catch in the relationship." Regina grumbles.

He shifts then, cupping her chin so she has to look him in the eye.

"Listen to me," he pleads, "what you just said is the most absurd thing I've ever heard. I'm going to have to cut you off because you are clearly drunk out of your mind."

It works, makes her laugh through tears, has her playing along, guarding her wine defensively as he tries to take it away.

He pulls her in close enough to press a chaste kiss her brow and asks her to _please not say anything else that stupid_ , that he really _respects her as a scientist_ and he would _hate to start questioning her intelligence_.

He gives her a distraction then, asks for her snarky commentary on some cheesy tv show, and what was supposed to be a quick stop at his house turns out to be an all-night get together, talking and laughing and feeling comfortable for the first time since Daniel proposed.

Hours later, after they've finished another bottle of wine and way too much Chinese food, he sends her off in an uber with a promise to pick her up and take her to her car tomorrow.

And maybe for the first time, as she jumps in a cab fighting the chill in the air, she wishes she lived in that pretentious apartment building after all.

It would be nice to have Robin just down the hall, available to talk to whenever she wanted.

.::.

"Hey, Daniel we need to talk."

It's Sunday evening and Regina has written out her feelings over and over, but she's still shaking as he answers the phone.

They've been arguing a lot over the past few weeks, that is when they talk at all. Mostly, she's been finding ways to avoid him. This distance is growing, and she's been waiting for Daniel to notice, to pull them back. She's been waiting for him to make one of his romantic ideas he always proposes when things seem to go wrong for them (which is more than she'd like to admit). But he's been busy out there in California. She wonders if he's even noticed how distant they seem from one another.

She's noticed, and it scares her. Then earlier this week she thought back to her talk with Robin and realized he was right. Hiding her feelings isn't doing anyone any good. And she should be able to talk to him about this. It should clear the air and help them move forward. Hiding it is only making the distance grow between them.

So she's going to talk to him about it. Now.

"About what?" Daniel asks between loud, audible chews. It seems she caught him at dinner. "Wedding stuff? David said Mary Margaret let you talk shop."

"Yeah…" she sighs. "About that, too. I, um, we were talking about where to get married, you know, what city?"

"Oh yeah," Daniel says as if he didn't really consider it. "You'll be up here soon, I figured we'd do Los Angeles. Unless your mother insists on Maine?"

"I want to do it here," she says, simply. "In New Jersey. Where we met."

"You want a wedding in an industrial town full of medical plants and crappy looking factories?" he scoffs. "Regina, I'm in LA. There are palm trees and an _ocean_ here."

"I don't _want_ to get married in LA!" she says, too defensively, and then everything comes crumbling down. "I've never even been there, Daniel, and until recently I thought that I would never live there. I don't even know if I will like it there. I want… autumn, I want changing leaves, and chilled weather, and I am giving you _everything,_ Daniel, I just want to get married where I'm comfortable, and—"

"Woah, this is about more than just a place to have a party, isn't it?" he cuts her off, the words sharp, accusatory.

She sighs.

"You spent months telling me that I shouldn't look for a job in LA, even though you were looking there. You told me how much better I'd be here. I _believed_ you, Daniel, I was ready to move before and you _convinced_ me I fit here, I—"

"I was just saying that so you'd be even more surprised and thrilled when I asked you to marry me," he reminds. "Things are never as exciting when you are expecting them, Regina."

"Marrying you would have been enough," she says, her voice wavering, "Wouldn't me saying yes, wouldn't that have been enough?"

"I… don't understand where you're going with this, but you're clearly upset."

"You made a huge decision to move and to propose to me _right_ before you moved. You just assumed I'd be fine with uprooting my entire life for you without a second thought, even after months of convincing me I belonged here and me realizing you were right. If we are a couple, we make decisions as a couple. You should not have just assumed I'd follow you and fit into whatever plan you had. We have to make decisions _together."_

She can't help audibly sniffling, though she's trying to keep all evidence of her tears from his detection. He knows her well enough to know she's crying, though.

"Did you think you'd just never move to California? We were doing long distance but surely you knew this was the goal, ultimately."

"You also said you wanted to work in New York one day, or Ontario, for some reason. And Miami. Daniel, I can't keep up with your plans. I just assumed California would be a temporary place, that maybe the next place would be one we considered together."

"Well, it's not, Regina. I'm here. Are you with me or not?"

"Why isn't the question ever if _you_ are with _me?"_ she asks, suddenly so angry, "Why am I expected to just jump in line with whatever you want?"

"If this was an issue you know, you should have made it known _before_ I moved."

"I did! And you basically took away my right to say anything because you told me I wasn't coming with you. Fuck, Daniel, imagine if I had done that to you. Imagine if I proposed and assumed you'd just move to me, wherever I would go. Would you do that? Would you uproot your whole life in two weeks for _me?"_

There's silence on the other end for a few beats. She knows the answer as well as Daniel. No, of course he wouldn't. That's not how their relationship works, after all.

"Regina, I want to be with _you_. I want to be with the you that is open to new adventures, who pushes herself to try new experiences, who can be spontaneous… the woman I proposed to would love an opportunity to start over in California."

"I don't know who you thought you proposed to but you've got the wrong girl," Regina mutters. "Though I'm not sure many people would be willing to uproot their lives in a moment's notice."

"What are you saying? You don't want to move?"

She swallows heavily. "If I say I'm not ready to leave yet, what would you say?"

"When will you be ready?"

"I don't know," she admits. "I love my job, and I love our friends… I can't give you a time."

"If you couldn't give me a time and can't commit to a plan, I think I would want my ring back," Daniel raises his voice a bit, everything hurried and rushed. "When I asked you, you knew where I was moving. You shouldn't have said yes if you didn't want to move on with me."

There is nausea building in the pit of her stomach, rising, surrounding her. It's disgust, helplessness, did he just— did he really just tell her it's over so quickly?

"So if I don't—"

"Finish up the study and move out here with me by January, or don't, and stay there and we will part ways. I thought you'd be excited. And you sound so negative every time we speak. This isn't how I wanted to start our engagement and definitely wasn't how I want to start my life in LA. I wanted bright and sunny and you are just…" he sighs, "I organized this big surprise for you and you weren't even excited about it."

"It wasn't a surprise it was a _trick_ ," she says back, "you tricked me, for months! And all our friends knew and I was just the idiot who didn't know what was going on! All so you could play the role of the wonderful boyfriend who has the most elaborate ideas! I know you loved that, all our friends telling you how wonderful you were for planning that party for me, and that elaborate ruse. It was shit, Daniel, it was absolute _shit."_

"It was for you! Normal women _like_ this sort of thing, I don't know why you don't. You don't even appreciate these things I do, for fuck's sake—"

"It's like you don't even _know_ me sometimes!" she says, blood rushing through her ears, feeling the rising panic of anger kicking in. "I don't get it, you give me these gifts and it's like you can see into my soul, and then with these gestures, these surprises, always being on display… it's not me, Daniel! When has it ever been?"

"I guess if I don't know you that well, then we shouldn't be doing this," Daniel says in a resigned tone that she hates. "I really don't know what to say. Goodbye, Regina."

"Go fuck yourself, Daniel," she snaps back, "After all these years you're able to just end things like this the one time I won't do what you want?"

"The _one_ time? I have to push you to do _anything._ And I thought you were getting better but clearly, I was wrong."

"And I thought you cared about me so clearly _I_ was wrong," she bites, "Jesus we haven't talked, really had a conversation, in nearly two weeks. Didn't you think something was wrong with that?"

"No, it couldn't have been two weeks, don't be dramatic," Daniel scoffs. "And if you felt there was a problem you should have talked to me. Listen, just finish up your last work assignment and move out here. You'll feel better. You'll make new friends and find new coffee shops to love and laboratories to explore. I know this is right for both of us. And if you don't trust me, what can I say? We can't have a relationship without trust."

He's unbelievable insulting and manipulative — transparent too — and she is livid with all of it. God, she hates him.

"You know what, you're right, I never should have said yes. I'll mail you back your fucking ring."

She hangs up before he can hear her sob.

She can't believe it happened so fast.

She loves him, really, she does. And what hurts so much is that she has to wonder if he loves her, if he ever loved her. Not the woman he wanted her to be, the woman he hoped she'd change into, but the _real_ her. He was able to end things so quickly, to give her an ultimatum and not care when she didn't comply with his wishes. He's selfish, he's overly demanding, he's just…

Why does this hurt so much if he's so awful?

They've had so many wonderful memories over the years. He's introduced her to a whole new world, a brighter, happier life. She was very reserved before Daniel, and really never thought a person like him would take interest in her. And yet, he's been there. He's been her partner. It wasn't always smooth or easy, but in the end, she was proud to be with him.

And if she's alone, she's not sure who she is anymore.

At first, it's surreal, she can't believe it's over. She waits, feeding herself heavy doses of denial and Ben & Jerry's.

But several nights pass and Daniel still hasn't called.

On the sixth night, she decides it's time to take the ring off her finger. If he hasn't called by now, he isn't going to.

She's about to drown her sorrows in a box of wine when she gets a text from Mary Margaret reminding her of David's birthday party at the Rabbit Hole.

She really doesn't want to go, but staying in and moping is exactly what Daniel would expect her to do. It's exactly the boring, predictable, lovesick thing to do, and it's the spite of proving Daniel wrong that has her forcing herself out after all.

She will soothe her nerves with bourbon, suck it up and go out.


	3. Chapter 3

Robin hasn't heard from Regina since she spent the night at his place a week ago, and that's actually unusual. They usually spend lunch together at work if they can. And he will find a few moments to wander in that huge complex of theirs to find her, just see her, just to make her smile.

But for the past few days, she's been busy. Too busy to talk, too busy to even smile his way. He sent her a text asking how she's doing and he hasn't heard back.

He is happy to see her at David's party, but not surprised to see her looking a bit off. Worn, maybe, but slightly tense. He isn't sure what happened, but as they talk and celebrate, the smile Regina wears never meets her eyes.

Regina is also… well, staying close to him. It's something she does when she's a bit uncomfortable. He's a bit of an anchor for her, she sticks with him when she's feeling off — always has — even when Daniel is there. He gets it, when he's upset he seeks comfort from her, too.

People keep getting shots and rounds, and Regina is drinking a bit faster, though she can hardly keep up with the drinks David keeps insisting the guys take. There are shots of tequila and Irish car bombs distracting him and clouding his senses, and as much fun as he's having, he's grateful for when the party dies down a bit, when the group has broken up into smaller ones, and he spots Regina stealing away to a corner barstool. David is piss ass drunk by now and is having a very passionate discussion with Mary Margaret, giving Robin the perfect opportunity to sneak away himself.

"Hey," he says, pulling up a barstool.

"Oh, thank god you're here tonight." She leans against him, grabbing his forearm and clinging it a bit tighter than normal. Her breath smells of sweet whiskey, cloves, and a dash of orange. After all these years he still has this urge to kiss her, to taste the citrus and smoke on her tongue.

But it's even more inappropriate to think of kissing her now when something is off. It's in her eyes, a sadness, a fear maybe.

"Is everything okay?" he asks, softly.

She shakes her head. "I… took your advice and talked to Daniel." She chuckles darkly.

"Didn't go well?" Robin asks, hiding his urge to cringe. Shit, this is bad.

"I told him I wanted to get married here, that I was attached to the area and didn't feel ready to move. He didn't take it well."

"Oh." He's sorry to hear that — he really is. He only wants her happiness, after all, and she looks so miserable tonight.

"He asked for his ring back," Regina breathes. "Turns out my reluctance to move and desire to have a wedding here is a symptom of a much bigger problem he has with me."

"He broke off the engagement because you wanted the wedding here?" Robin clenches his fist tightly, anger at his friend building. Daniel is particular when it comes to events, he always has been, but this is too far.

And Regina doesn't deserve this.

"And because I told him I'm not ready to move to California," she says, drowning the rest of her whiskey.

"He's an ass," Robin gripes. "I'm sorry but my friend is an absolute asshole."

"He doesn't understand me," Regina sighs. She flags down a bartender and orders herself and Robin another round.

"I think he wants me to be something I'm not."

"Well, he's an idiot if he doesn't want you to be the amazing person you are."

An excited Mary Margaret breaks their solemn mood. "Hey! We are all going to go to The Drunken Ship! Are you guys in?"

The Drunken Ship is a louder, raunchier nightclub with a rooftop bar that could be fun if it weren't damn near freezing out.

Robin shakes his head. "I have a drink coming, but…" he motions to Regina to let her give an excuse because he's sure she doesn't want to go.

"I'm not sure I have the stamina for that tonight. You guys have fun."

Their friends leave them, Regina breathing a sigh of relief when Killian, the last of their friends, walks through the door.

"I don't know what to say about Daniel yet," she admits. "I'm embarrassed, incredibly so. I'd be _less_ embarrassed if he had not organized an entire secret engagement party for me, but here we are."

"When did this happen?"

"Almost a week ago. He said if I wasn't ready to move in three months, we should just part ways. He said he'd like the ring back. The last thing I said before hanging up was that I'd mail it to him. He hasn't called since."

"Fuck," Robin mutters. "Well, he hasn't told any of us about this, at least. Probably knows deep down inside he's the asshole."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," she grimaces. "Can we just… not talk about it right now? I just need a distraction. And…" she points to her glass, "plenty of this."

"A night of distraction, you, and alcohol sounds lovely," he smiles, toasting his half-empty glass against hers.

.::.

She's lost track of time entirely, but the bar is still crowded so it can't be too late. She and Robin have gotten lost in nostalgic memories, sharing and retelling old jokes and stories that make her smile.

And there are the drinks. She keeps on ordering drinks, despite knowing she's fairly gone and Robin is even more so.

But she likes the feeling, the pleasant buzz of pleasure underneath her skin brought to her by alcohol and Robin's sense of humor.

God, she loves being around him. She's always been worried that she likes it a bit _too_ much, but she doesn't have to worry about that now, doesn't have to analyze her feelings, wondering if the attraction and emotions she has are more than just appreciating good looks and loving him as a friend.

Now, it doesn't really matter whether she's thinking about ripping his shirt off and having a quick romp in the bathroom (she's not _really_ thinking of doing it, just imagining what it would be like, in some alternate universe).

"For the happy couple," the bartender says, handing them both two shot glasses with a wink. "Some more liquid courage, maybe?"

Regina is puzzled by this, but Robin apparently isn't, if his nervous snicker is any indication.

"What?" Regina asks, "What did he mean?"

"He thinks we're on a date and need a more liquor to um, seal the deal."

"Oh," Regina blushes a bit (maybe her face is just hot from all the drinking, who knows). But speaking of that…

"No one has ever thought of us that way, have they? All our friends just left us together for the night and no one thought a thing."

"Well, you're engaged to my friend," Robin points out. "We've always just been friends."

"Except I had a huge crush on you when I first moved here," Regina admits, her voice slurring a little as she giggles. She knows she will regret saying this in the morning. "I'm sorry, I, I just mean—"

But Robin is smiling in this lopsided goofy way, tilting and knocking his shoulders into hers, his cheeks all red and rosy.

"God, I had a terrible crush on you. From the moment we met at that orientation morning tour, honestly. I just remember seeing you and not remembering how to breathe."

"Oh please," Regina scrunches her nose in distaste, but something about Robin's words sounds so damn sincere, even though… "If you had such a crush why did you set me up with your friend?"

Robin bites his lip and looks at her but says nothing.

"See, I win."

"I didn't set him up with you, Regina." His eyes are focused on hers, the way they are when he is telling her something important, a hand falling over the top of hers as if he is pleading for her full attention. "I invited you to happy hour because I wanted to see you, see more of you. I didn't give a crap about Daniel. The guys were there because, well, I was still with Marian and trying to sort through what I felt, and without them, it would have been a date and I wasn't sure back then… I just didn't know if I should end it."

"You… were into me while you were with Marian?"

"Yes," he takes a swig of a beer he's ordered to chase the shots, god what a bad idea. "We were on the outs when you and I met, but it still seemed wrong to break up with her and ask you out right away, so I didn't do it _right away_. I would have, though. I was planning to, it wasn't fair to her if I couldn't get you out of my mind, you know? But then Daniel got you before I could sort out my life."

"Daniel… _got_ me?"

Robin smiles and shakes his head. "The moment we were alone, he called 'dibs' on you. I didn't set you up, he set himself up with you."

"How mature," Regina rolls her eyes.

"That's Daniel," Robin notes, and Regina can only reluctantly agree. This changes more than she thought. She always assumed they met because her best friend saw something, saw a connection. She never guessed, she wouldn't have…

"He told me you were playing matchmaker," Regina mutters, staring at her drink. "You know, I only went out with him at first because I thought I owed it to you." She rolls her eyes. "If only I knew."

"Yeah..." Robin isn't looking at her anymore, his eyes are fixated on his drink as if he's deliberately trying to avoid her gaze. "Trust me I've thought about that a lot. More than you know."

Oh. Well then. She should not be flattered, she's obviously drunk and not thinking clearly, but there's a rush of misplaced pride and happiness where it shouldn't be.

"You were really that into me when you were with Marian?"

"I've _been_ into you for years no matter who I was with or…" he shrugs. "Who you are with."

Her mouth goes dry thinking of Daniel, of all those years wondering, thinking, being jealous over Robin and other women, of _hating_ herself for that jealousy, of fighting every last feeling and instinct she had, ignoring the fact she connected more deeply to Robin than she ever did with Daniel, telling herself it didn't mean anything, anyway. Because he didn't feel the same way about her.

"Still?" she asks softly.

Robin nods. "Always."

"I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact you were attracted to me," she says, feeling stunned, "I've been thinking for three years that you just—"

"Have you _seen_ yourself?" Robin asks, his voice suddenly loud and indignant. "Have you ever actually looked into a mirror?"

She rolls her eyes playfully.

"I'm serious, Regina. You are… so gorgeous to me, I can't even imagine…" He pauses only to chug the last of his beer, and then says too honestly, "I've never wanted anyone as much as I've wanted you."

Her heart drops into the pit of her stomach, warmth blooming, radiating off her as she flirts back, "You never even tried to make a move, not once?"

"You were with him. And I didn't know you felt the same. I figured if I confessed you'd push me away and I'd never get to see you again. Being your friend and being so close to you has been everything to me these past few years. Even if I wanted more, I still… I didn't want to fuck up what we had."

"Oh," she says, holding up the shot the bartender gave them. They clink glasses and down the shot. Regina doesn't chase it with the gin and tonic she's got herself, she just lets the tequila burn on her tongue, thinking about missed opportunities. If she had known he felt something for her then she probably would have ended it when she heard he and Marian were over. It's funny how things are all about timing. She confesses, "I… thought about you that way over the years. More than I should have. I felt guilty about it. But it was always just a fantasy, I never thought it could actually happen so I never let myself feel too badly over it."

She watches Robin's adam's apple bobs, his voice is slow and slurring as he admits, "Now that I know you've fantasized about me I may never recover."

She laughs, her leg kicking against his underneath the bar. He kicks his back, lighter, keeping it pressed against hers. Her hand is on his thigh before she can think better of it.

"I've always wondered what it would be like, being with you, kissing you…" she whispers, her voice sounding much huskier than she intended.

"God I want to kiss you," he groans. It sounds so hot, so wanton, so _true,_ everything that is right and real with the world.

Her heart is beating so fast you'd think she was on some sort of intense roller coaster (and maybe she is).

Everything is so… new and exciting, thrilling.

Maybe she shouldn't be doing this, maybe it's too soon, but at this moment, at this time, she really doesn't care what she's supposed to be feeling. She's too focused on what she _is_ feeling. Which is, for the first time in days, quite simply, amazing. She feels like she's flying right now, propped up not only on the words he said but the fact that Robin, after all these years, liked her after all. She probably should have seen it, but then again, he didn't either.

And now she is going to let herself think that there's a reason for this, for everything that happened with Daniel, for this moment, right now, and she's not going to run away from it and deny herself a chance to feel happy.

She's never allowed herself to think of Robin like this for too long when he was right in front of her, and now, it's like she's indulging in some forbidden fruit, and she can't get enough of the taste. She lets her hand wander up and down his leg, watches his face for each subtle acknowledgment of her touch, the deep breaths he takes, the way his jaw clenched, his eyes cut for a few milliseconds too long to be a blink…

Fuck, he's sexy.

"I should, um…" Robin stands suddenly, all but throwing her hand off of him. "I just have to step out, just for a second, and have a smoke, I—"

"You don't smoke," Regina points out, a wry smile spreading on her lips.

"Well, I think, I think I probably should start," he says, grabbing his coat off the back of the stool and carrying it in front of him, stumbling out towards the back exit where a few of the smokers go, even in the cool autumn weather. He doesn't even let her say another word before he's gone, leaving her confused and embarrassed.

.::.

It's cold tonight, and thank god for it, the cool air is going to give him clarity, he thinks.

It's apparently doing nothing for his erection, which is embarrassing as hell, just a few shared words and touches have him standing at attention like a teenager even now, minutes later. He's awkwardly holding his coat over his waist, breathing against the wall, trying to talk himself out of what he wants to do.

But he can't stop thinking of flashes of her, of what he wants to do with her, and it's spurring his desire on even further.

Daniel broke up with her, there's no fucking way he ever deserved her, anyway, she's single now, it might not be the best timing, maybe they should wait, but every cell in his body is begging for more of her and…

And she was fucking rubbing his leg, and flirting, and confessing, and sharing…

And damn it all to hell, damn his weak resolve, maybe waiting would be better but he's waited three years.

"Robin?"

He had not even noticed Regina next to him. She looks so meek, so timid now, but so fucking beautiful. Her lips are a brighter shade of red, he thinks she must have reapplied makeup, probably freshened up in the few moments since he left her.

"I'm sorry, I just— _oh_!"

He won't let her finish that apology because, well, partly because it's entirely unnecessary, she needn't apologize for anything. A larger part is he's waited three fucking years to kiss her and he can't bear to wait a second longer.

He only puts a hand on her hip and tilts his chin towards her, it's all she needs before she catches on, places a hand at his side and meets him halfway, crashing her lips into his. It's still a surprise, for both of them, it seems, he hears her surprised little _mm!_ into the kiss as he parts his lips and deepens the kiss.

She tastes of tequila and salt, oranges and a hint of that smokey rye they had been sipping on… and there's something else, something delicious and unique to Regina. Whatever it is, he wants more, feels he will never be satiated.

He walks her back against the wall, pressing into her as he takes what she gives, and Christ does she give a _lot._

He knew she'd be a good kisser, just the way he's watched her, how sexy and confident she can be when the mood strikes. But he's blown away by the feeling of this, the way her hands grip tightly at his sides, the other digging into his arm, the way her lips and tongue move against his, kiss after kiss, each adding a bit more heat, a bit more urgency.

He's denied himself of her for so long it's easy to get caught up in the feeling of finally — finally, being able to touch her as a lover, not just a friend (they aren't lovers yet, they won't be, this is just… god this feels so good).

"I take it back, I'm not sorry," Regina rasps, pulling out of the kiss.

Robin chuckles and draws her in for another deep, passionate makeout session.

"I can't believe this is happening," he smiles. He kisses one cheek and then the other, drawing back far enough to see, just to make sure she's real.

"Me either."

"You are… I can't even put into words what you are, Regina Mills."

She smiles back at him, shaking her head, for a moment everything is quiet, and still.

"Come back here," she chuckles, gripping at his shirt collar and pulling him back against her into a passionate kiss.

He cups her cheek this time, claiming her lips and kissing her like it's going somewhere, he doesn't care, he's tired of fighting the attraction, the heat, the passion.

"I'll pay the bill and meet you at your place?" she asks, her eyes suddenly looking past him.

And… yeah. They are making out quite aggressively outside a bar where there's a fair amount of foot traffic. This isn't exactly smart. They could be seen.

But also, dear fucking god let this mean she wants to do more than just make out, if they make a whole night of this without a release, he's fairly certain he will die of blue balls.

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll pay the bill, I'll be just a minute. I don't want you walking alone at night." He presses a kiss to her nose, and the adorable, scrunched up face she gives him in return is worth everything.

"It's cold out," she says, her eyes full of mischief. "If I have to walk home with you it will take forever."

"I'm a very fast walker," he reminds her.

"You won't be as fast if we are stopping to make out every few feet," she counters. "I can walk alone."

"I promise you I'll keep my hands to myself," he says, holding his hand up in honor.

"I can't promise to do the same," she flirts, tilting her head in to kiss him again. "I like this. Too much, I think."

God, he is going to throw all his money at that check and fucking carry her back to his apartment and his bed.

"Please, wait here," he begs, kissing her hand before he runs into the bar.

The bartender (thank god not someone they know) flashes him a knowing smile as he pays the exorbitant tab. He tips a hefty amount (after all, he made this whole night happen with his little suggestion of liquid courage, didn't he?) and nearly _runs_ back outside, grabbing Regina by the arm as he speedwalks down the street, adrenaline, and yes, that liquid courage, spurring him on.

.::.

Regina giggles, her heels clacking as she matches his hurried pace down the street.

God, if this is a dream she doesn't want to wake up.

"Somebody's eager," she teases.

"I'm just trying to limit your time out in the cold," Robin winks back at her.

"I don't care about the cold," Regina admits as they dash across the street, the blinking walk sign like a goal post. Then she leans into him nipping at his ear. "I just want some time alone with you as fast as possible."

"Shh, I still have to be able to walk," he chuckles back, "Come on, let's go."

It doesn't take long, he's only six blocks away. It's true, the night is unseasonably cold and her feet should hurt from damn near running in these heels, but the alcohol is coursing through her veins, warming and numbing her from feeling any ill effects.

And thankfully preventing her from thinking too much. She does too much of that, actually. Too much thinking about what she's supposed to do and how she's supposed to do it. Right now she only knows that Robin makes her feel good, and it seems she makes him feel good in return.

The moment they are in the elevator, the second those doors close and leave them out of eyesight of others, she grabs him and kisses him again.

He reacts surprised, at first, but kisses her back with everything he has, tongue and lips all over hers, fingers running through her hair and scratching lightly at her scalp in a way that sends shivers down her spine. It becomes desperate and needy, quick and rough, both of them trying to get as many kisses in before the elevator stops.

When it does they pull apart, both of them panting, Robin leading her toward his apartment.

He goes shy when they enter, doesn't make a move, just looks at her with one of those dopey grins.

She thinks he might say something to ruin the mood, so she kisses him quiet, a kiss that's slower and softer, but no less erotic. For a moment it seems like he's going to pull back, but he must get swept up in the feeling as much as she does (this feels so _good,_ so _right,_ better than fantasies of kissing him, and if it feels even half as wonderful for him as it does for her, stopping won't be easy).

He pulls her in closer and his kisses start to heat, his hand starts to roam, up from her hip to her ribs, so his palm grazes the side of her breast. Even through her coat, the touch makes her shiver.

But she wants more, so she pulls back, not entirely leaving his lips, just back enough to unbutton and slide off her coat and cardigan, leaving a thin red top on that shows how turned on she is, nipples pert and pronounced.

He groans, looking at her, then peels his coat off himself, letting it fall to the floor before kissing her again.

He presses her flush against him, so she can feel him hard against her hip, and it thrills her (thank god she's not the only one), makes her feel bold and daring, lets her hand wander down to his ass and grab it shamelessly.

Oh, it's a great ass, she's always known that, but now that she finally gets to feel it, she decides it's even better than he had imagined.

She expects him to laugh (she almost is, she's groping at her best friend's butt, for fucks sake), but he doesn't, instead she hears this throaty, eager little groan as they kiss, then his hands wander again, from hip to ribs, his palm now cupping around the swells of her breasts, lightly smoothing over her nipples, and she hums her approval, grabbing at the back of his neck and as she kisses him with passion and fire.

Both those hands slide down either side of her body, slowly, as if tracing the curves. They don't stop at her hips, this time, instead slide behind her, cupping at the swells of her own ass, lightly at first, but then he's moaning and pressing more firmly, kneading and touching over her jeans like he can't resist her, and it's the hottest fucking thing she's ever felt.

Her head is in the clouds now, feeling light and breathless, tipsy from emotion and drink, and god, she doesn't want to stop.

"Fuck, Regina," he moans, his lips move to her jawline, down her neck. "I've wanted to do this for so long."

"Me too," she says honestly, feeling that shiver of excitement run through her body like an electric current.

"Is this, is this okay? It isn't… you don't want to wait?"

"Wait?" she asks, her eyebrow raising comically high. "Haven't we waited long enough?"

"God yes," he groans, pressing another kiss to her lips, "I just meant, you and Daniel just—"

"I'm not thinking about Daniel right now," she says plainly, because she's not— she's going to zap him back out of her mind again, thank you very much, "I want to be with _you_."

"I want to be with you too, so badly," he sighs, his hands find the swells of her bottom again, squeezing gently. "If you're sure…"

Christ, is she ever sure. And in fact, she will show him just how sure she is, gripping at the hem of his henley and urging it up.

He helps her take it off, smiling at her so adorably as she places a hand on his chest, smoothing up and down the well-defined muscles.

She knows what he looks like without a shirt, having seen him a few times over the years at the pool, or even that time they went to the beach and he brought Sabine. She always avoided him like the plague during those moments when she was intensely attracted to him, so worried he'd be able to tell, to see her thoughts somehow.

But still there was one day when he pulled her into the pool and she came collapsing in on top of him, unable to resist letting her arms and leg grip at his body for just a moment, under the guise of splashing and kicking him, pretending to be angry he pulled her into the too-cold water.

She had felt a bit of his slippery skin then, ripples of muscles she had urged to touch more, to scratch up and rub against.

But she didn't, she tore herself away as if his body were a poison, denying herself him until she had some distance to cool down. She always fought it then, always convinced herself she wasn't feeling anything particular except lust for a man who is objectively, obviously, gorgeous. Not that she was lusting over her best friend, not that his personality and meaning to her as a friend spurred her desire more, not that her feelings were anything more than appreciating him the way she might a celebrity.

But she doesn't have to fight this anymore, he's hers now, so she lets herself touch as much as she wants, even presses a sucking kiss to his pectoral muscle, followed by a little bite that his him letting out a husky rasp that goes straight to her clit.

God, she wants to hear that again.

His hands are on her shirt, lifting a bit, then pausing, waiting for permission, she knows.

"Please," she gasps, licking his neck and kissing it before she draws back and lets him remove her top.

She's at least wearing nice lingerie, something she wore to make herself feel good, a sheer black bra that leaves her totally on display, but it's better than the worn cotton tee shirt bra she usually wears.

"Fuck," Robin moans, his head ducking down to — god — suck on a nipple through the thin fabric.

His lips and his tongue feel amazing, send a rush of blood to her head and make her thighs clench, god she wants him.

"Robin, mm, like that."

His hands are on her other breast, kneading and then rolling a nipple between his thumb and index finger, pulling and tweaking in a way that feels so utterly…. god, so perfect.

Exactly what she wants.

He trades places then, mouth to the other breast, hands to the one that is now wet and pulsing, god she has to come tonight, he better not have any second thoughts, this isn't desire anymore, it's a _need._

It's that thought that has her gripping at the waist of his jeans, grabbing at the button and undoing it. She hears him mumble a curse under his breath before sinking his teeth into her chest, just a quick little bite that has her wanting to strip and fuck him even more.

"Are you sure?" he asks, one of his hands moving on top to still hers.

"Are _you — mm—_ sure?" she counters, her voice not nearly as cheeky as she means it, not with the attention he's paying to her chest right now, god she wants him so bad she'd do nearly anything to him if he'd make her come (is he good at that, she wonders, she can't imagine he isn't, she's so excited to find out she can hardly contain herself).

"Oh, I would have fucked you right on the street if you'd let me," he rasps, "I'm more than sure about this. But this is a big step, it's a change, and if even part of you—"

"Every part of me wants this right now," she assures, cupping his erection through denim. He grunts, thrusting his hips against her.

He's bigger than she would have thought for a man of his height, he's… thicker, a little longer, that she can tell by feeling him.

And now she just wants to see him, touch him like she was meant to. so she takes him through the hole in his boxers blindly, and strokes him.

"See what you do to me?" he rasps, his breath tickling her ear before he leaves the lobe and presses another kiss to it.

She does, she can _feel_ it at least, and it has her cheeks flushing hot, butterflies swimming in her stomach. Fuck.

She undoes his fly, unzips, and takes him in her hand.

He's hard, velvety and smooth. Uncut (she had guessed that — not that she ever thought about him that way, of course), thick and warm. She strokes him slowly, but deliberately, with a firmness that has him thrusting into the touch, muttering a stifled curse that sounds more like a plea.

"Shit— _god_ — Regina," he anchors his hands at her hips and leans in to kiss her a bit more, then whispers a raspy, "I want to feel you, too."

She nods, guides his hand with her free one, leads him to the button of her jeans and grins.

He groans, pressing his forehead against hers, then shaking his head.

"If I do this right, you won't be able to stand for long."

He grabs her then, hands gripping tightly at her ass as he lifts up and stumbles toward the couch.

She squeaks with unexpected laughter and sheer excitement as he flops her on her back on the couch.

His pants are undone and start to slide down him but it doesn't seem to hurt his agility as he moves on top of her.

He presses a kiss between her breasts and then fiddles with her jeans again. "Can these come off?" he asks so needlessly she has to giggle. " _Everything_ can come off," she says coyly. And it's like he's been waiting for this permission forever, the way a hand jumps behind her to her bra clasp undoing it and pulling it off her.

It's not like anything was hidden with the sheer material, but his eyes still darken, he still licks his lips as if he suddenly is trying very hard not to devour her.

"How is every inch of you so perfect?" he asks softly, bending down to take a nipple into his mouth— god he's good at this, he's learning her body so quickly, responding to her body language, adding the pressure she prefers, licking his tongue across the nipple the way that makes her gasp.

He gives her other breast the same treatment, and she can't help but place her hands on the back of his head, encouraging him, guiding him.

He releases her with a wet pop, and another quick smooch before kissing and licking his way down her stomach and, oh god, he's going, she knows what he's fixing to do, her heart races thanking god the lights are dim and trying to remember how attentive she was when she shaved yesterday (was she thorough? She usually is, but she'd been distracted and it wasn't like she was planning to have anyone see her).

"You okay?" he asks, and how the fuck does he do that? Know whatever is going through her mind at any instance.

"I wish I had, uh, a little notice that this would happen."

He laughs at that, shaking his head before dipping down to kiss her belly button.

"Have I not been vocal enough about how perfect you are? Because I'm happy to voice every compliment that's run through my mind, I just… would rather spend my time kissing you."

"I like the kissing," she whispers back. "I'm just… nervous. It's um, it's _you_."

"Mhm," Robin hums. "And it's _you."_

She laughs wiping her forehead with her palm.

"I'm nervous too, Regina. If you want to stop—"

"God no, I just," she swallows, lets herself be vulnerable and just admit, "I want you to like all of this—"

"Oh, well you don't have to worry about that," he assures, another kiss to her belly, and he undoes her button and unzips, kissing the exposed underwear. "I've been dreaming of this for years and no dream quite matches up to the reality. And I had _very_ vivid dreams."

"Well, you should know that I usually clean up better than this," she says, feeling her cheeks redden.

"I don't think that is possible," he chuckles. "But if you were a sweaty dirty mess it would still take a freight train to keep me from being all over you right now. And I'm fairly certain it is impossible for me to not be extremely turned on by you under any circumstance."

She laughs and weaves fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes at the touch, shivering a bit in a way that emboldens her. This is okay. It's them.

He hooks a thumb under the waist of her jeans and looks up at her. "Okay?"

It is.

She nods, and then Robin is…. well, quick, would be the word for it. She's wearing skin-tight jeans but he's able to get them off rather easily, peeling them from her body smoothly. They bunch a bit at her ankles, but he works that out before she can even reach to do it herself, lifting her legs in the air as he frees the rumpled denim.

He smiles at her, smoothing her hands over her bare legs.

"Do you know how much I love your thighs?" he murmurs, sending a shiver down her spine. "They are very… biteable."

Of all the compliments she'd think he'd pay her, having biteable thighs is not on the top 100, and she can't stifle the laugh that tumbles out of her when he says it.

He looks up at her sheepishly. "I think those shots have made me a bit too honest. It's just…" he raises her leg in the air, tucking an ankle behind his shoulder. "You have these very shapely thighs I've admired for years. And then this one time, in the pool—"

"I remember," Regina breathes. "You pulled me into the pool when I wasn't expecting it."

"In the struggle to get me back you wrapped your legs around me, and they were… very firm, and muscular, and I think that drove my obsession up a notch," he explains, his lips coasting along her legs. "So I've been thinking about this… for quite a while."

He's not the only one.

He licks at her inner thigh before placing a sucking kiss there, his teeth first grazing her skin before she squirms in anticipation. He reads her well, like he always does, bites down, confidently but not too hard, just enough to make her feel the jolt of pressure and heat, fuck, this is good, really good, but would be even better if...

"Don't you want to see what _you_ do to _me_?" she rasps, her hands finding their way to the elastic of her underwear, who cares if it's forward, the man _bit her thigh,_ he's into it.

He groans, pressing a smooch to her leg before sliding off the couch and kneeling there between her thighs, one leg daintily draped around his shoulder.

She thinks he's going to tease her, but he doesn't. He rubs her through the scrap of silk that's keeping him from her, letting out this throaty little sound at the feel of her.

"So wet," he breathes, "Oh, Regina."

"Please," she asks, reaching down until she can clutch at his hair, just to give him a little tug, a little push of encouragement.

It's all it takes before he's taking the last of her clothing off, his eyes dark and hooded as they comb over her body.

"Fuck."

His fingers ghost over her sex as his adam's apple bobs. "Glistening," he moans, and before she can even respond his tongue is on her, tracing around the lips, circling around her clit, and her mind goes blank of any other thought than the sharp, rising pleasure.

She palms at his head, encouraging but not leading. The way he eats at her makes her feel like some delicious meal, a wave of confidence washing over her, as she takes in a shaky breath and lets herself feel.

He starts to fuck her with his tongue, moaning into her sex as he does, and it has all her nerve endings standing on end as she hears his muffled _delicious_ and _fucking incredible_ against her skin.

"Been so long," she gasps, as his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves that is crying out for attention. She doesn't care what she's admitting at this moment, it is not as if he knows being eaten out is a rare event for her — it's been a few weeks since Daniel left, anyway. "Oh god, harder, Robin."

He stops and looks up with her as if to ask for clarification, so she adds, "I need it, um, firmer, sucking and rough licks are best and — _ohh yesss!"_

He starts sucking her in earnest, his tongue lapping at her as he does, and it's perfect. Almost, except for the dull ache inside her. She doesn't always feel it like this, have a need for it, but today, now, fuck, she's been thinking about him inside of her for too long.

He has a hand on her belly, so she circles her hand around the wrist and draws it down.

"Inside," she gasps.

God, she's a wet, pulsing ball of need at this point, achy and impatient, right on the edge of tipping over.

He takes his mouth off of her, planting one last firm lick before pulling back.

His eyes are stuck on her sex as his fingers stroke around her entrance, drawing out a soft sigh of pleasure.

When he sinks his finger into her, he moans in tandem with her, his eyes never parting, watching as he enters her. He looks so damn erotic as he does it, slowly, but with purpose, his jaw clenching as he focuses on her.

"Fuck, you've no idea how good you feel right now," his breath is shaky.

His pace is painfully slow, so she speeds it up for him, rocking her hips into his hand, shifting until she finds the right angle.

"Ohhh!" she cries out when that one finger hits exactly where she's throbbing for touch.

He catches on instantly, frowning. "Is this enough, or do you want more?"

She's not entirely sure what he's offering, but in any case, the answer is the same.

"More, please more!"

He adds another finger and quickens the pace, keeps it at the angle she likes, his fingers curling deliciously inside her.

"Mm, that's good, so fucking good, Robin, please, fuck — _oh!_ Can I have your mouth too?"

"God I love how you ask for me," he grunts. "You can have anything you want, you know, anything from me, just ask. I'd do anything for you."

It's entirely honest and not all about sex, and she could focus on the implication of this promise if her mind weren't swimming in lust and building pleasure.

He doesn't tease, goes right to her clit, gives her firm licks right where she needs him as she pumps in and out, and _god,_ this is good, this is _really good_ , this is fucking fantastic, _ohh!_

She's saying some of her thoughts out loud, she realizes, because he is chuckling a bit into her, and she'd be upset if she weren't delirious with need right now.

"Close," she groans, he only speeds up his fingers, sucks with more force, and she sees black dots pop behind her eyes before she shuts them and lets the feeling consume all her senses. "You're too good at this I — _mm_ — don't usually go this quickly— _oh god don't stop, Robin please, I'm going to—!"_

It's been hours of quiet, building foreplay, and her body needs this like she can't remember ever needing anything, the building pressure releases, the swells of pleasure build and topple over in the most delicious ways, and then she's freefalling into the sensation, relieving pleasure washing over and soothing aching nerve endings as it consumes her.

Her legs are wrapped tightly around him, palm on his head as she rides this out against his mouth and hand, grasping at every pulsing burst of pleasure that he draws out, every tremble she feels.

She hasn't come like this in _forever._

Quite literally _forever._

He doesn't stop, slows his movements, but doesn't stop, humming into her now with these soft little moans she doesn't think are entirely voluntary. He's _into_ this — she figured he would be, but he seems to enjoy it as much as she has, so there's no guilt in milking every last second for all it's worth, until the feeling becomes too much, until he drags a tongue over her over sensitive clit and she can't help but jerk away from his touch.

She feels his scruff tickling her thighs as removes his fingers and shifts down, his tongue laving around her entrance, lapping up the wetness there.

He hasn't come and she can feel his desire in the way he continues to eat at her. She's not physically ready for another round, but desire wells up in her anyway, wishing her body would cooperate as she lets out a shaky exhale.

"Sorry," he chuckles, "couldn't help myself."

"Mm," Regina sighs, feeling boneless and satiated. "Don't apologize, that was amazing."

"Good."

He plants a kiss to her hipbone and then grabs a hand to kiss it. "Is there room for me up there?" he asks, pointing to couch.

"Mm, come lie next to me," she hums, her hands pulling at his. He laughs, and it's not until he stands that she realizes he's still half-wearing (albeit it unbuttoned and unzipped) jeans.

"Get naked first," she whispers, "I just want to feel you, skin to skin. I'd take your pants off myself but I can't move yet."

He laughs, and complies, boxers and jeans pooling at his feet before he steps out of them.

She doesn't avert her eyes at all — lets herself take a long, unashamed look at him.

He's a good looking man. His legs are thin but muscular, defined. And then there's… the part she hasn't completely seen before, at least not like this. Without his jeans or boxers obscuring a full view he looks thicker, longer, better.

She licks her lips and sighs, meeting his eyes with a little smile.

"Hey," is all he says, but it sounds like so much more, that adoring look he's giving her becoming almost too intimate.

She smiles back at him, unsure of what to say that wouldn't be repetitive or ridiculous.

.::.

That was… well, like something out of his dreams. Feeling her, tasting her, watching her come… hell, _feeling_ her come. He always knew she was sensual and sexual, but getting to experience it himself was otherworldly.

He's painfully hard now, wants to come so bad he can taste it, but she's all blissed out and limp, calling him into cuddle, and just like that, the pain of his arousal is somewhat quelled by his pride in making her look utterly spent.

He scoots her over and spoons her, feeling her hot skin against his (fucking Christ almighty how he wants her), then presses back into the couch, his arm draped around her torso, holding her tight against him.

"Fuck, now I know why Sabine was always smiling," Regina giggle, causing Robin to answer with a hearty chuckle of his own.

"She was just a happy, bubbly person," Robin teases back.

He's not sure whether that's true or not but he knows he's practically incapable of thinking about a different woman right now (really, he's incapable of thinking about _anything_ but Regina now).

"If I came like that regularly I'd be a happy person too," Regina teases. "You are _really_ good at that."

His heart skips a beat, and he wants to tell her he's willing to make her come as often and as much as she likes, but he doesn't want to scare her off yet.

"I _really_ like doing it." Robin tucks his head in the crook of her shoulder and breathes in, giving her a little chaste kiss that shouldn't feel as good as it does. "So that helps, I suppose."

He can't see her sly smile, but he can hear it in her tone with the way she responds, "I'd ask exactly how much practice you've had perfecting that, but I think I'd rather not know."

"I'll admit that I'm not _always_ that good," he chuckles, but he really wants her to know that all this - the feeling, the whole event, is more than just another drop in the bucket for him. It felt so much better, _she_ felt so much more than other women. "I can get… sloppy when it matters less. Or when I'm not in sync, you know, the way we were." He kisses her neck then, and she tilts her head back to grant him more access.

She spins around to face him though she's too close for him to see much more than her eyes, perfect eyelashes, and a corner of her cheek.

"You're also a good kisser," she hums, her lips ghosting over his. She is such a tease, it turns out, and he loves it.

"You are too. A very," he presses a kiss to her nose, "good", another kiss to her cheek, "kisser," and then he kisses her lips, soft, sweet, and tantalizing.

He's not going to ask to have what she isn't offering, so he's ignoring his throbbing erection as best he can, trying to revel in the moment of having her— finally — is his arms, and that fact, that's way better than a release. But she shifts a bit next to him, lifting a leg over his, rubbing her (still wet) core against his cock, and he is fairly certain he short-circuits.

His hand shifts to her hip, guiding each rocking motion, groaning as a particular thrust has him losing his ability to breathe.

"Regina, god," he groans, "have a little mercy on me, I'm, _mm!"_ He loses his train of thought as she repeats the movement, a subtle little grind into him she still seems to pass off innocently as she rubs her nose faintly against his.

"Mercy?" she asks with a feign naivety that would make him laugh if he could appreciate humor at this moment.

"Mmhm, I'm…" She takes his breath away with a particular swivel of her hips, "mm, so fucking hard right now, the slightest touch — _Regina —"_

She isn't playing fair, and if she keeps this up he won't be able to stop without seriously hurting himself.

"Tell me you want me," she breathes as she rocks against him as if it's not exceedingly obvious.

"I want you, so, so badly, right now, _mm,_ and always, all the time…"

He probably shouldn't say such things, but fuck, they are true and he feels like he's been holding in all this desire, all this need for her, all this love for her, and now that he's finally got the chance to let it out it's all coming tumbling out at once.

She doesn't seem to mind, she's — oh god— taken him in her hand and now she's stroking him, with just enough pressure and speed to drive him mad.

"Regina!"

Fuck, she's good at this. Too good, if she doesn't stop he's going to embarrass himself.

"You feel good," she whispers. "I want to feel you inside of me."

"God, I really want that," he moans, jerking into her hand.

She smiles and urges him onto his back. He's surprised how in control she's been, how bold she's been every step of the way. It's good because he wants this so badly he'd worry about pushing too hard. But he doesn't have to, she's leading this night.

She moves to straddle him, takes him in for a few strokes and then — fuck — rubs herself over the top of him. She's wet, more than ready, and he's about to lose his mind just imagining how it will feel to be inside her.

"Do you want to use a condom?" she asks, her voice all low and raspy.

"Not unless you do," he says honestly, "I would rather feel you without it."

She bends down to kiss him, with a little heat and passion, but he can tell she's trembling just a bit. He smooths a hand down her spine, hoping she takes comfort in the touch.

"I don't want to use them with you either," she admits. "I trust you too."

He smiles back at her, watches as she situates herself on top of him, hovering over him but not yet taking him inside.

"Ready?" she asks again, and he can only chuckle.

"I've been ready for three years. Are _you_ ready?"

She smiles, taking a moment to just look at him.

"I'm about to have sex with _my best friend_ ," she laughs.

"Me too," he says with a smile.

She just shakes her head, amused at his response.

He gets it, where she's coming from. He had that same thought before going down on her, the initial shock fading after her orgasm. But she hasn't gotten as close and personal with him yet, and this _is_ a big step.

He's about to tell her she doesn't have to, to make sure she knows he is more than satisfied with everything tonight and it's well worth the price of blue balls, but then she's lowering herself on him and he has no idea how to speak.

She's incredibly wet, so very tight, warm, soft, everything he could ever imagine.

She lets out a moan, he's sure he does the same, but his mind is too consumed with her to focus on anything else.

"Woah…" she says softly, shutting her eyes right as she lifts herself up an settles back down on him, moving at a snail's pace, which is good, he can soak up every ounce of the sensation this way, try to memorize the feeling of it so he can replay it in his mind forever.

Sex is a physical act, but one's mental state plays such a role in the feeling of it, and he knows the foreplay and the waiting and the _needing_ , and the love he feels for her are all making this feel better than it ever has, has his cock pulsing and twitching inside her, even at this pace.

"You're incredible," he breathes, his eyes dart from her beautiful face to where they are joined, and he's transfixed watching the way she takes him in and out, the way it feels every time she takes all of him inside her.

"Fuck," she groans, adjusting herself just a bit, leaning, her head lulling back as she finds the right position. Her neck is cocked in this way he finds incredibly sexy. He grabs at her hips, helping her move up and down.

"God, love," he moans, "so beautiful…"

"Feels so good, _mm—_ god you feel so, so good Robin."

She's going just a bit faster now, letting him guide her, up and down, her gorgeous tits bouncing with each movement. He wants to touch them, but he also wants to hold her like this, god he wants to touch her everywhere, every part of her is so delectable, so bloody perfect.

"I want to —uhh, go faster," she breathes, looking at him as if to ask for permission.

"God, yes," he groans. "Do whatever you want, whatever you need."

She smiles shyly and bends forward, bracing a hand on the couch arm behind him as she fucks into him. He feels her hips shift for a few test thrusts, and then she's found it, that perfect spot, letting out an indulgent, slurred _Ohmyfuckinggoddd!_ that makes him dizzy with pleasure.

"Just there?" he groans, and he may be on the bottom but he's matching her movements, thrusting back into her as she fucks him.

"Yessss!" she hisses, "Mm, fuck you're perfect for me — you're— it's, it's so right, mm!"

Pert, taut nipples are right in his face now, thank god, he lifts one breast up to his mouth and sucks eagerly at the stiffened peak.

"Oh god Robin, please, I like that — fuck, _a lot,"_ she groans, and now her pace is even faster, her perfect, muscular legs squeezing tightly around his body.

He already knew she liked her nipples played with, an unfortunate overshare Daniel had bragged about early in their relationship. It hadn't made Robins life any easier, really, he thought about it every time he could see the pebbled peaks through her shirt on cold days, and then he'd be stuck fantasizing about taking them in his mouth and making her moan and writhe.

He was unprepared for _how_ much this lights her up, the way she murmurs _more_ and _harder_ as he works on her, god, he can feel her getting even tighter, wetter, god, she's dripping down the length of him, coating the skin below with her warm arousal, fuck, he can't even think about this for too long or he won't last.

He also doesn't want to spend his first time with her trying to recall football records and recite the names of each player on the 1990 English World Cup team just so he can last longer inside her. He wants to enjoy this, every bit of it, to stay in the moment with her, keep his mind on her, even if he has to bite a hole in his cheek to keep from finishing too soon.

He doesn't, though, his mouth is busy, sucking and kissing every exposed inch of flesh he can as that familiar feeling churns low in his belly, his balls tightening, pressure building with each thrust of his hips.

Regina is all around him, the smell of her shampoo, mixed with perfume and that familiar scent that is exclusive to her. She is making these breathy little sighs, moans that are building, each sound music to his ears. She sounds amazing, feels incredible, smells intoxicating, even the taste of her skin, sadly, with a hint of sweet tang, it's all so overwhelming he could easily lose himself in her, let her wash over him like a wave and get lost in the undertow.

It would feel so good to just let go, right now, god he wants to come so badly, with the woman he loves tightly pressed around him.

But after hearing a high pitched, breathy little whine of hers that almost sounds _desperate,_ he comes to life again, focuses on giving her all the pleasure he can, and as much as he wants to spend the rest of his natural born life with his hands and his mouth on her tits, she may need more.

"Do you need, _mm_ , more?" he asks.

Before she can reply with more than a moan, he snakes a hand between their bodies, clumsily thumbing a hand over her clit. It's… hard, swollen, the way it was before when his mouth was on her, and just the feel has his cock pulsing, driving him closer to his release.

"Oh, _yessss_ god, please!" Regina rasps, moving to make room for his greedy hands.

He takes the opportunity to adjust a bit, to slide up and prop himself on the arm of the couch so he's closer to her, can see her beautiful face, all that heat and emotion in her eyes, and god he really needs to come.

He rolls her clit between two fingers, adding a pressure and friction that seems to light her up, has her fucking him at a frantic pace, her eyes shutting right before opening wide and looking at him with a hunger he won't soon forget.

"Robin," she breathes, "Robin, I'm close, please don't, don't stop…"

"I've got you, darling, I've got you," he moans, thrusting into her harder, he's damn near ready to burst, and holding back may actually kill him, or cause some permanent damage, but it's worth it, so he calls on every ounce of willpower he has and avoids that irresistible urge to topple over the edge.

She dips down to kiss him then, it's hard and passionate, sends deep currents of pleasure through his whole body, because he loves her, so, so much, and she is pulsing and squeezing around his cock, her tongue is caressing against his, god damn it she's so passionate, so sexy…

He's lightheaded under the feeling of… everything, nerves standing on the edge, the pleasure so acute, rippling and churning just under his skin. He's going to have to slow down, beg her to stop, he's, _oh fuck,_ too close, absolutely can't get any closer to that precipice without soaring over, he—

 _"_ Robin _, mmm,_ harder! _"_

He's not sure what she wants harder, so he gives her both, fucks up into her harder, adds more pressure against her clit as he circles and rubs, his other hand playing with her tit, squeezing and rolling the nipple between his fingers with a bit more force. She's humming into his mouth, her movements more erratic, and he tries not to picture what she's feeling too hard, tries not to make too much of the spasms he feels, the wet pressure around his cock, the desperate movements of her tongue, those breathy little pants, the way her hand has fisted into the cushions of the couch, the other digging into his arm, god, if she only feels half of what he feels, she must be feeling amazing, _ohh!_

 _"Robin!"_

He feels it, then, her walls clenching hard around him, the relieved sigh she makes as she breaks out of the kiss sloppily, eyes shut right as she revels in her release.

She likes it faster while she's coming, if her frantic movements are any indication, and he gives it to her, pushes himself to the limits, until a particularly wet, warm pulse of her envelopes him so deeply he doesn't think he can pull himself back.

"Regina, I'm—!"

She's nodding, nails digging into her skin as she manages to pant out permission, but it's not until she manages to say _please come inside me_ that he finally lets himself fall off that edge, and then he's crashing hard into the warm, tingling sensation as he bursts inside her.

God, you would have thought he denied himself for a year, the way he explodes inside her, his aching balls throbbing.

She doesn't stop riding him until he begins to soften, her movements slowing, bit by bit until they are both satiated and spent.

She tumbles down on him when she finishes, her cheek crashing into his chest, with him still enveloped in the heat of her, god he could stay like this forever.

He wraps his arms around her, one in her hair, the other around the small of her back, and just revels in the feeling.

"That was a good idea," she whispers.

"Mm, I agree," he manages to say, though his voice is shaky, she's fucked him senseless and he's not entirely sure how to speak.

They trade kisses for a while, on his browline, in her hair, on his chest, on her ear. Soft and gentle.

He's never felt more satisfied, never more sure in this moment that he's in love.

Her fingertips are dancing over his skin, stroking up and down his arms in a way that could easily lull him to sleep. But then she sighs, and pushes herself off him, wrinkling her nose so adorably as she admits, "I should use the bathroom."

"You know where it is," Robin smiles back.

This is the first time she'll be going there as _that kind_ of guest, perhaps she will take a shower, freshen up. For some reason, it feels like a big step. He's not sure what is wrong with him.

"Will you stay the night? Please?" he asks softly.

She snorts, then covers her mouth. "I can't even fully feel my legs yet," she laughs. "I don't think I can get into a cab in this condition."

"I should probably be sorry about that," he flirts back. "But I'm not. Just proud."

"You _should_ be proud," she says, standing on — yes — shaky legs. She looks down at the carpet below, and Robin follows her eyesight to the clothes underneath.

"I'll get you some pajamas."

He grimaces when he gets off the couch, dizzy and tired, and still a bit boneless. But he manages to make it into his bedroom, throwing on pajamas himself, then quickly tosses dirty clothes and laundry into the closet and half-heartedly makes his bed look decent. He grabs a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a white cotton tee shirt and runs it to the bathroom, rapping twice before Regina opens the door. She's not showered, but she's washed her face free of makeup and it seems she's helped herself to mouthwash.

"I have a few cheap toothbrushes under the sink," he says, "unopened of course." She raises her eyebrow as she gargles but he only shrugs. "Important to have a few things in case you have unexpected overnight guests, don't you agree?"

She can't answer with her mouth full of Listerine, but he notes her playful judgmental gaze. He brushes his teeth alongside her as if they were an old married couple who have done this a thousand times before. It's easy for them, so natural to slip on this routine, she's so comfortable, standing there _brushing her teeth in the nude_ _right next to him._ There's something so charming about it. She slips on his pajamas in front of him, foregoing any underclothes (which, for some reason, is incredibly sexy to him), and then she's padding back to his bedroom, nearly collapsing on his bed.

He follows her a second later after he finishes washing up, finding her face down on pillows, spread out, looking exhausted.

"I think…" she whispers. "I might have had a lot to drink."

"Oh," Robin chuckles, "Here I thought I was dizzy and lightheaded from the sex."

She snickers and adds, "That, too," and as much as he wants to cuddle up next to her in this second, he knows she needs a bit of tending to first.

He goes back to the kitchen and fills two pint glasses with icy water, grabbing a bottle of Excedrin for good measure. He puts the pills and one glass on the bed stand near where she is currently curled up, the other glass on his.

She's actually on his side of the bed. Even that is adorable to him.

"Thank you," she sighs, grabbing the water and chugging it. "For everything tonight. I mean it."

Everything goes soft and sweet, and he has to shake his head. "I should be thanking you."

"We can thank one another," she yawns. "Since we are both so polite."

She curls into his side, snuggling against him like a kitten seeking warmth. His heart swells as he wraps an arm around her, letting himself get as close as he can. She likes being close to him, he knows that now. With her flush against him, he feels so safe, so comfortable…

Sleep begins to overtake him in a steady ripple, and the last conscious thought he has is that even sleeping next to her is deeper and more satisfying than anything else he's known.

.::.

The sunlight is heating down on her face, in a way that warms her but yet does not make it impossible for her to rest. It feels nice, all safe, cocooned up under the covers.

She could easily sleep the day away. She's usually a restless sleeper, but now, last night, and this morning…

Well, she's felt rather safe and cozy.

Something shifts behind her, rubbing against her back.

"Robin," she breathes, still half in a dream state.

"Mmm, love, good morning," he rasps, kissing her shoulder, his beard tickling her skin as he moves to kiss her neck.

Memories of last night swirl and mend together, and then, oh god.

"Robin?" she asks slightly startled.

"I'm here," he whispers back.

Her heart knocks a title harder. It feels like cheating, but it's not. Daniel broke up with her… didn't he?

Yes, he did (but even if he hadn't… she's fairly sure she would have done this anyway, and perhaps that's where the guilt is coming from). She's morally in the clear and free to enjoy this, right?

"It wasn't a dream," she whispers.

"No, no it wasn't. Why, did it feel like one?" He asks the question so smugly she cannot help but turn to face him and tease him a bit.

"No," she says playfully.

"No?" he asks, his voice low and suspicious.

"I don't come that hard in my dreams," she answers cheekily, proud as punch when Robin chokes, laughing and coughing, clearly caught off guard by her response.

"We are better than even my wildest fantasies," he murmurs. "Can't imagine what sex will be like with you when I'm fully sober and well-rested."

She freezes, guilt washing over her at the idea of doing _this_ again with Robin.

 _It's not cheating,_ she reminds herself. But then again, how many times over the last few years has she had those harmless little fantasies of him, even when she was with Daniel? How many times has her mind wandered and wondered _what if?_

And god, she and Daniel may technically be broken up, but none of their friends know that, and what will they think? Regina falling into bed with Daniel's best friend less than a week after breaking up with him… shit.

"Listen," she says, turning to face him. "Last night was… really incredible."

"Definitely," Robin answers, rubbing a hand through her hair.

"But we probably shouldn't do that again."

His expression shifts into something a bit solemn and forlorn.

"I disagree, in fact, I think I have the opposite opinion," Robin responds, kissing her nose. "I think we should do that as often as we'd like."

"Robin, I _just_ broke up with Daniel. And he's your best friend—"

" _You're_ my best friend," Robin reminds. "And after you, probably John, not Daniel."

"Regardless, I just think… can you do me a favor and pretend last night never happened? Or can we acknowledge it did, and it was wonderful, but it was just this freak occurrence that happened because the planets were oddly aligned and the moon was full, something like that?"

"I am afraid I can't do that," Robin sighs.

Regina freezes and looks up at him. They are in this odd little embrace, still, despite this ever-growing disagreement. And, oddly, she has no desire to shift out of it yet. Her hand is still stroking his arm lightly as she looks at him perplexed and asks, "Why not?"

"Because," Robin says, bending down to kiss her brow. "I'm in love with you."

Well, that is a bucket of cold water to break her out of this mood.

Her eyes go wide as she extricates herself from his touch.

"You can't be," she breathes. "Not _that_ kind of love."

"Yes, _that_ kind of love. I've been in love with you for years, and like an idiot, I never spoke up."

"I was with Daniel," she reminds. "You couldn't."

"I thought that too," he says, reaching for her. "I worried a lot about doing the right thing, but now I know what is right is us."

"You know how this will look. It will look like we were having an affair under Daniel's nose — if not physical, emotional."

"I don't care."

"Daniel will hate us."

Robin rolls his eyes. "Do you know Daniel's mantra, the 'Never Look Back' saying he always repeats?"

Regina's throat goes dry as she nods. She is very familiar with that saying.

"Once he moves on, he _really_ moves on. I mean, until he moved out here, I hadn't heard from him since college, really. I was his past, until I wasn't. And hey, I was glad to see him again, and we always got along, but I always knew that when he moves on to the next big thing we'd probably part ways. Daniel is already out of my life, Regina. The only thing keeping us together was you."

"So you don't care what Daniel will think, is that what you're saying?"

"I'll care a bit, but not enough to sacrifice something special with you over."

"Our friends," she reminds him. "My family would be disgusted with me… My friends would hate me if they found out… _god,_ we were making out on the street — what if someone saw?"

"We tell them that you and Daniel broke up last week and that you and I are together now. They will understand. Or they won't, but they will accept it in time. Especially since this has nothing to do with them."

"No, we should not have done this."

"Oh, we absolutely should have." Robin smiles, fuck, he's still smiling, how is he so calm and so happy? "Unless you have some severe memory loss over last night's activities. I don't think either of us should deny ourselves _that_ experience."

As anxious and distraught as she is, Regina can't help but smile back at that.

"Well, we shouldn't have _yet_. Not without… some serious time between _this_ and me ending things with Daniel. I don't want to be the reason you lose friends, lose your best friends."

Robin shakes his head, god, he looks so confident in this moment.

She envies his confidence.

"There's no list of rules here. There's nothing we need to follow. We can do whatever we want. Just tell me what you want, Regina."

Tears come, and she shakes her head. "I'm not as brave as you, but I wish I was."

"You're every bit as brave," he assures sadly. "But it's okay; I get it."

"You don't," her voice is trembled and weak, she hates it. "I want to tell you how I feel, but it's just… God, Robin, I feel so guilty about all of this."

"You shouldn't. He's the one who left. He's the one who was so uncompromising he practically forced you into a breakup. But I don't want you going into this unless you are sure. Take your time. Tell me what you want, when you want it, and I'll be here. I promise. I can wait for you, I just can't hide what I feel from you anymore."

She manages a nod, then Robin smiles. "Good. I'm going to get up and make us breakfast."

"I," Regina says, forcing herself up, "am going to shower."

He gives her a peck on the cheek and leaves her last night's clothes in the bathroom as he goes into the kitchen to make her breakfast, lets things shift to something that is almost platonic if it weren't so damn domestic. It feels so right with him that she can almost pretend she has nothing to feel guilty about.

But then he's eating bacon off her plate, and she's stealing berries off of his, and somehow — she's not sure how — his stupid beautiful face gets in the way of her lips, and then they are trading kisses while seated at his breakfast bar, and fuck, they already did it yesterday, and if they haven't left the apartment, doesn't it just count as the one time?

She takes and lets herself be taken, that hint of guilt hidden under layers of desire, lust and… more.

This time she goes down on him (over his noble protest otherwise). There's something special about feeling exactly how bad he wants her right in her hand, something more _intimate_ about having him this way, learning what he likes, her mouth working him up, making him into a moaning mess. It thrills her, more than it should, has her wanting more, more moments like this where she can tease and rile him. But that's silly and wishing for what she can't have. This is the last time, after all.

At least, the last time for a while. Maybe months from now…

Robin takes her out of her thoughts by begging her to stop, asking to be inside her, he wants to be inside her again, just this last time. She releases him and lets him, lets him take her to bed, lets anticipation overwhelm her as he climbs on top of her.

It's soft and slow this time, but no less amazing, they just _fit_ together so well, he just knows how to read her so well, anticipate her needs… of course, he always has in every other aspect, so it shouldn't surprise her he has this skill in the bedroom as well. They draw it out for as long as they can until they both crave release so badly they can't hold back any longer, her climax spurring on his, the only thought on her mind is this should _not_ be the last time.

And when they are panting and sweating in the afterglow, she almost forgets how wrong this is.


	4. Chapter 4

The moment Regina pulls up to her home, something feels different. She's still tingly and warm, full of breakfast food and scorching hot kisses. All she can think about is collapsing into her bed under the weight of the heavy, exhausting emotions of the last few days.

She thinks she might love Robin.

But she is also getting over a three-year relationship and perhaps she needs time to mourn, to get her head straight and deal with all of that. She and Daniel need to have that talk, to sort through stuff and settle up tabs, for her to give the ring back and him and figure out how to tell everyone it's over.

She loses her train of thought completely when she opens the door to her home and finds Daniel on the other side, sitting at her kitchen table, clutching a bouquet of roses tightly.

She freezes in the doorway, the cool air licking at her back as she swallows heavily.

"Hey there, cupcake," he smiles at her as if nothing has changed.

She _reeks_ of Robin, his familiar smell has saturated her skin, a sweet, woodsy scent wrapping around her like a smoking gun.

Images of last night flood her mind and she's so damn _angry_ that Daniel has put her in this position.

"Daniel?" she scowls, closing the door and crossing her arms defensively around her chest. "This is my home, you can't just—"

"I know, Regina, believe me, I know. I realized how stupid I was being and I just had to come right over."

"With flowers. What a romantic gesture. Who else did you tell about this? Is there a reunion party planned?"

"I didn't tell anyone. I didn't do this for everyone else. I know— what you said made sense. Those other surprises were more for me than for you, I liked the praise I got. But I'm not doing that this time. I'm just here for you. Because I can't believe we'd throw away three years so quickly. I don't want that."

"You broke it off," she reminds. "You said if I wasn't willing to move in three months—"

"I know what I said. And when you…when you hung up and didn't call back, well, I realized it was unfair of me, okay? I really want to work on this. And I promise the next time I move — if I move, and if you are with me — it won't be without consulting you first. I want to do better."

He leaves the roses on the coffee table and walks toward her. She is frozen, fairly certain she's lost the ability to breathe.

He grabs her hand and kisses her thumb, then the knuckles of each finger.

That hand had been holding Robin's earlier.

That hand had been _kissed_ by Robin earlier.

While Daniel was on a flight rushing to fix things, what had she done?

"I need to… think," she settles on as bile churns up her throat. Shit, she's actually going to vomit.

"Of course, think. Give it time."

She rushes towards the bouquet of roses and squeezes her hand tight around the cellophane wrapper. "Let me put these in water."

"Of course," Daniel says, bending down to kiss her lips.

She winces, wiping his touch off with the back of her hand. "Daniel, you do _not_ get to just come here, after you broke up with me, and walk into my house, and _kiss_ me, and—"

"We had a fight, babe. I'd never break up with you like that. I can't even believe you'd think I would."

"You told me you wanted the ring back," she gripes.

"Did you send it back?" he asks, checking her fingers.

"No," she whispers, "it's still on my armoire, but—"

"See, it wasn't over," Daniel prods. "If you really thought it was you would have mailed it back. We can work this out. I'm here for you. I took a last minute flight for you. You mean so much to me, Regina. Let's fix this."

She's definitely going to vomit.

"Excuse me, I just have to—"

She runs to the bathroom and empties the contents of her stomach. She's so mad at the world, at Daniel, at Robin… but really, she is angry at herself.

She cheated on Daniel. She may have convinced herself otherwise at the time because it was Robin and she's wanted him so badly over the years, but deep down inside, she knew.

And now she has probably ruined her chances of being with them both.

"You alright in there?" Daniel calls, rapping on the door lightly.

"Not really," she admits, "I um, I had a lot to drink last night."

"Ah," Daniel says as if that explains everything. "What was the occasion?"

"David's birthday," she answers back hoarsely. She wonders how early he got here and whether she knows she spent the night somewhere else. He trusts her so much he hasn't even asked where she went. "Daniel, I'm sorry, I'm going to take another shower. I feel gross."

Disgusting is more like it.

"Okay, babe. I think I'm going to stop at Marco's and pick up a pizza. Been craving it since I left. I'd ask if you wanted anything, but—"

"No!" she answers tightly, "Definitely not. Just go."

"Okay. Feel better, babe."

When she hears the front door shut, she lets herself cry.

And then she sends Robin a text.

 _Daniel is here._

Robin types back almost immediately.

 _What do you mean he's here?_

Right. This is almost as absurd for him as it is for her.

She types furiously, trying to explain everything quickly. Robin is going to hate her. Not as much as she hates herself, though.

 _He surprised me. Was waiting when I came home. Wanted to fix things. Didn't think we broke up. Said it was a fight. I think he's right. I misread things. I am so sorry._

She expects Robin to write back a nasty slew of texts about how she mislead him, how he used her and cheated on her fiancé with him, something she feels she deserves, anyway. But Robin is not that type of man.

 _You don't have to apologize for anything. And it wouldn't have mattered to me whether it was a fight or a breakup or anything at all. I wanted to be with you more than I care about anything else._

But he has to know….

 _He's my fiancé, Robin, and he came all the way back here to apologize and tell me he wants to work on this._

 _You're going back to him, then?_

She wants to scream and cry and say that apparently, it's not going back to him, it's staying with him. Instead, she just apologizes.

 _I'm sorry. So sorry about all of this. I didn't want to hurt you._

His response surprises her.

 _Don't say that. Please. Last night meant a lot to me. Don't apologize for it. And don't tell me you regret it. That will only hurt more._

As much as she wants to apologize to him for this indefinitely, she will choke and swallow every urge she has, because lord knows she can't bear to hurt him more. And as for regret, well… She should regret it, but…

She texts back, _The only reason I'd ever regret it would be if it ruined our friendship. You are so important to me, for so much more than last night._

Regina trembles a bit, worried for his answer. They slept together, he is in love with her, and she's engaged to someone else. How could it not ruin the friendship?

Robin's response shocks her.

 _I'll always be your friend, Regina. Always._

 _We'll talk later,_ she writes, because she wants to discuss this with him. And then she adds, _Thank you so much._

And then she strips off her clothes, grimacing at the state of her body. There are traces of Robin everywhere on her body - a love bite on her thigh, she smells of his soap and shampoo. There's no point in denying that he's recently been inside her, and there's… traces of that. Her nipples are swollen and sensitive from being kissed and sucked… her lips are faring no better.

She takes her second shower of the day, trying to wash away evidence of an affair she enjoyed far too much to truly regret.

And that makes her feel even more awful about the type of person she is.

.::.

"So, New Jersey for the wedding. In the fall. Like you'd like," Daniel says.

He's eating pizza on her table, she's curled up on the chair opposite him, hands wrapped around her knees, trying not to have a panic attack.

"Yes, thank you," she says absently.

"Worried about convincing your mom?" he asks.

She is a bit. Not as worried as she is about the fact she slept with her best friend, though.

"Yes," she shrugs.

"I was thinking we tell her how many Manhattan socialites get married around here. They do, you know. She will like that. Just let me talk to her."

"Yeah… you're good at that."

"Man, you really got sick," Daniel laughs. "You still look awful. I think your skin is green."

"Sorry," Regina whispers.

"Don't apologize, bet you had fun."

God, did she ever.

She's struggling now, between feeling guilty and feeling… confused. And maybe a bit upset.

"Daniel? What is going on with us?"

"I moved us without consulting you or your feelings. It was a dick move, in retrospect. I didn't see it, but it was. And now I feel like you should completely control the wedding. You know, fair is fair."

There are a million reasons why that reasoning doesn't work.

"Right, so I get to plan one day of our lives and you get to plan all the others," Regina gripes, then instantly feels guilty. She does not get to be upset right now. She has cheated on him. People who do bad things get bad things in return.

Daniel grimaces and gives her a sheepish look. "Would it help if I also let you plan the honeymoon?"

It's a joke, and it does the job at lightening the mood. They both laugh, and some of the tension in her chest melts away.

"I think I'd prefer if we did more planning together," Regina says, her voice sounding a bit defeated.

"That's fine, but you get the wedding of your dreams. Whatever you want," Daniel declares. "And… come to LA, tell me what you want and I'll make it work. I really want you to be happy out there."

She does too, somehow.

"There's no hurry for me to move?" she asks, and Daniel shakes his head.

"I'm sorry about that. I just… wanted you there so we could start our new life right away, I didn't realize what pressure it would put on you. It's your choice, babe."

She nods and tries to smile. But Daniel suddenly being so patient and understanding really doesn't make her feel any better. It only makes her feel worse.

.::.

Daniel only flies in for the night and part of the next day. It's not too terribly long, still, there's an expectation of… intimacy that she battles with herself over.

He's her fiancé. He deserves this. They should kiss and cuddle and reconnect.

But she is too full of self-loathing to have sex. And she fears her body will betray her, will somehow shut down and make everything awful considering she's so out of it.

So she continues to play sick, which isn't that hard, considering how nauseous the entire situation has made her, guilt eating ulcers into her stomach.

It's even worse when he says he's going to go out for a drink with the guys, promising to come back with takeout and a movie for her.

She knows the guys include Robin. She's frankly terrified their secret will come out somehow, even though she trusts Robin and knows he'd never say a thing about their night together. She doesn't have to ask him not to say a thing (he'd be insulted if she did). But still, it's…. concerning.

He comes back, and her heart is still racing, her stomach still flipping, paining her, as they spend the rest of the evening together.

This will go away when the memory of being with Robin isn't so fresh. She'll be able to reconnect. She loves Daniel, she really does. She wants to be with him.

This is just temporary.

Next time, things will be better.

"My boss invited me to her place for Thanksgiving," he says, right before leaving. "I know it's not your favorite holiday, but I thought you might want to come with, just to check out my new life."

"Sure," she says, and then, shit, no. "Oh crap, I have to work the Friday after Thanksgiving. I am so sorry, Daniel."

"You can't call in sick?" he asks hopefully.

"I said I'd be there, and it's for the drug trial. It's important to me." She watches his face fall as she clears her throat. "Daniel, you said we were going to plan things together, and you'd take my feelings—"

"I know, you're right," he sighs.

"Come back here for Thanksgiving?" she asks. "We could spend it together. I only work on Friday morning."

But she can tell he doesn't want to.

"It's just that my boss inviting me is a huge deal," he sighs, "I mean, she only invites a select few to Thanksgiving. And I think I can make a good impression. You understand, right?"

She more than understands, in fact, she doesn't mind that she will spend Thanksgiving apart at all, and that's the concerning part.

"We'll make it work," Regina smiles. "This is all just temporary. We'll be together soon."

He tells her he loves her then, unsolicited, and sweetly, and she feels her heart knock hard. She really does love him.

That night she does a job search in earnest.

He's making changes, being accommodating, considering her in a way so few people do. She's lucky, really.

For some reason, she never thought she'd have this with him.

Maybe she just didn't think she'd deserve it.


	5. Chapter 5

Robin hasn't heard from Regina since her frantic texts right after their night together.

He saw Daniel that night, just for a drink — he, David, and Neal had gone out. Daniel had mentioned in passing that Regina was feeling under the weather, rolling his eyes at David and telling him it was his stupid birthday celebration that caused it.

David had laughed, looked in the direction of Robin… and then said nothing.

And Robin's been wondering what it meant ever since. If maybe he suspected something, or if he just didn't think it was worth getting into the fact that Robin and Regina had left the party early.

And then there had been the most awkward moment of the night.

"Hey, Robin, listen, Regina is going to be planning the wedding here, apparently." Daniel had rolled his eyes, and Robin had to bite his tongue and clench his fist to stop from saying something, his fingernails digging deep into his palms.

"I heard that," Robin had answered as if he hadn't noticed Daniel's annoyed tone. "It's nice she likes this area so much and you'll have a memory tying you here always."

He was being an ass, he knew it, voicing something he had known would upset Daniel. But he didn't care, in that moment. Daniel didn't deserve her, and the sooner he realized that and moved on, the better it would be for everyone.

"I told her she can handle the whole wedding, and I was kind of wondering if you'd be there as input? Give a male perspective? Make sure she doesn't turn it into some sort of… chick fest. Make something for the guys, you know? I'd ask David, but you know he'll just do whatever Mary Margaret says."

"He's in love with her," Robin said through clenched teeth.

"Okay, if that's what you're calling it. I'd call it being whipped. But seriously, help me out? I told her whatever she wants but… it can't help to have a guy's perspective, right?"

Robin had agreed despite his every instinct telling him not to. Part of him just wanted to spend time with Regina in whatever capacity he could — even if it was helping to plan her wedding to a fuckstick who didn't deserve her.

And he made the half-hearted promise to be there for input, but he's not sure whether he'll have the opportunity, considering his efforts to see her at work on Monday and Tuesday went nowhere. She barely left the lab, then snuck out and went home before he could catch her.

On Wednesday he spots her at the coffee shop, she's leaving as he's in line. She gives him a wave and then points to the door.

She's never been able to walk by him without at least saying hello.

He's beginning to worry that he's lost her.

On Thursday he sends her a text, her preferred method of communication, after all. He doesn't want to be too clingy but… he _does_ need to talk to her. He has no idea what is going through her mind and what role she wants him to play in her life.

 _I've missed you. Can we talk?_

He hasn't asked anything of her since that night and he's entirely left the ball in her court, so he hopes this doesn't place too much pressure. But he's not going to entirely ignore his feelings, either. He's always been honest with her, why not be honest now?

His phone buzzes a few moments later.

 _I know I've been avoiding you. It's just that I'm scared. And embarrassed. And I feel horrible. For once I don't know how to act around you._

As awful as all the words sound he's happy she's so free with confessing them to him. She's still not afraid to be vulnerable and honest with him, that's something at least.

 _It's just me. No one to be scared or embarrassed about. There's nothing you could do or say that will change the way I feel about you. I know you well, the real you. I just want to see my best friend again._

She texts him back and asks if they could have a drink after work "nowhere popular" and "someplace private." He picks a small little wine bar a few miles from work, somewhere that isn't a usual happy hour spot, that's fairly busy but never crowded, and never loud.

It strikes him as odd, that the time they hooked up it was at a very popular bar in plain sight.

And now all they are doing is talking, yet Regina wants to hide away like it's an illicit affair.

But he doesn't dwell on the contradictions, and as he arrives at the bar, he gets that telltale misplaced excitement he tries to put aside.

She's not his. She's going back to Daniel.

Robin will never get to kiss her again.

He tells himself this, over and over.

But somehow, he just doesn't believe it.

Especially when she enters the bar in a white chunky sweater and a cute little knit hat on, looking cozy and warm. He wants to wrap his arms around her and never let her go.

But it's not time to dwell on that or things he can't have.

She smiles at him, not the anxious, shaky smile he had seen at the coffee shop, but a genuine, happy smile.

"I have missed you," she breathes, sitting down and grabbing the glass of wine he had ordered for her. She has a second thought then, she must, because she's clarifying— "I know I am the one that caused all this, I have no right to that, and it's not even been a week—"

"You have every right to say how you feel. And I missed you too."

She hesitates, then speaks quietly, as if she were harboring a great secret. "How'd it go with Daniel last weekend?"

She's checking on him, he knows that. There's nothing she could be concerned about for herself — Daniel would have told her had Robin revealed anything. But she's worried about him, about his feelings. It's… sweet.

"Same as always. Nothing to report. He teased David about getting you too drunk at his birthday. David didn't have anything to add."

Regina looks terrified for a second, then blows out a puff of air in relief.

"I'm so—"

"I asked you not to apologize," Robin says teasingly. "It's all right, Regina. I knew there was a possibility I was just a rebound, how could I not?"

"You weren't that," Regina says quickly, "I mean, I didn't sleep with you for any reason related to Daniel or how I felt after we… fought."

"You mean broke up, until he informed you it didn't count as a breakup," Robin says blankly, sipping his beer with a shrug.

She nods and groans. "He was right, though. Just—"

"Why does he always get to define things? Why are you always so confident in your own perceptions, except when it comes to him?"

She's silent.

"You know I'm right," Robin notes.

"You're not _wrong,"_ she admits. "I'm not great at relationships. I guess I don't know how to act. Things didn't go well in that department before Daniel."

"Well, Jefferson was an ass," Robin reminds her. "And so is your mom." He's heard the stories of how her first boyfriend thought she was too difficult, too argumentative, snobby and pigheaded, that relationships were about compromising and she never did that. He's heard how her mom had made many of the same observations and told her it's not how you find a nice man.

He assumes that's why Regina acts so differently with Daniel. It bugs Robin more than it should, entirely separate from the fact that he wants her.

"I know," Regina sighs. "But Daniel isn't. This isn't his fault."

Robin bites his tongue.

"I… talked to my mom and they agreed to a wedding here. I… I am really getting married, Robin."

He knew, but the words still hurt.

"Daniel asked me to be a groomsman," Robin shrugs off. "I knew that already. What I don't know is, uhh, when you are planning on leaving."

"I think it's best after the study is over," she says softly, "I mean after that I'll just get another new big project and will be all wrapped in that. So a clean break is probably best."

Robin nods. That study is supposed to wrap up at the end of the year. Fuck, as if the holidays weren't hard enough, now he will be losing Regina in the midst of them.

"You know I love you—"

"Don't do that," Robin sighs, grabs her hand from across the table. "I love you too. But not like that. Not in only that way. I said it, and I meant it. I kept it in long enough, and I'm not taking it back."

"Do you… just not want to see me again?"

"No," Robin laughs and shakes his head. "Honestly it was harder when I was pretending my feelings for you weren't real. Having everything out in the open is oddly refreshing. So I don't see why anything needs to change. It changes things for you, but not for me."

"I don't want to lead you on. We were…" she looks down at their hands and blushes " _are_ very, um, affectionate as friends, and—"

"And I never once thought you mean all the touches any other way than platonically. Don't change that. If you do it I'll notice, will just remind me that you are actively thinking about how to best let me down and that will feel worse."

"Okay. I don't want to lose you as a friend," Regina says, reaching for his free hand with hers and then joining it with their other. It's silly, sitting across the little circular table, grabbing at each other's hands like this, but Regina had been telling the truth. They were always very touchy-feely people, at least, Regina has been that way with him.

She's not like this with everyone. In fact, she rarely likes being touched, save for Robin, Daniel and increasingly (though she'd deny it) Mary Margaret.

He likes that he's made it to the short list, at least.

All this pain will pass. He's sure of it. He can let her go. He can watch her get married, settle down and have children, even.

It won't hurt as badly in a few months. Now that everything is out on the table, it will actually be easier to let her go. There won't be anything left unsaid hanging over his head.

"You're never going to lose me as a friend," Robin promises. "Unless…" he grimaces. "Are you going to tell Daniel about what happened?"

Regina grimaces then shakes her head slowly. "I should, I know that it's awful to keep this from him. And if it were almost anyone else I would. But I, um, I think he'd forgive me but tell me we'd have to cut you out of our lives. And I don't think I can. I know it's awful, but I can't just not have you in my life."

He didn't realize how much he needed to hear it, to feel wanted and needed and special in her life.

"I can't have that either," he admits with a smile. "So it won't happen."

She looks unsure, nervous, but smiles at him in agreement.

"Can I ask you one question?" He asks softly.

He watches Regina swallow her wine slowly. Then she nods.

"You said you didn't sleep with me for any reason related to Daniel. Why did you? I mean… was it just a drunken night for you, was it feeling lonely? I can take it. Why?"

She bites her lip, her eyes start to water, and he thinks he might have asked too much. He's about to take the question back when she answers, "You made me feel happy and safe, and… attractive. I thought I was single…" she snorts. "And I had that crush on you, I was, or, rather, I _am_ , very attracted to you, I can't say I never wondered what it would be like. And it happened organically, so I didn't have to think too hard about anything else than what I felt in the moment." She winces and leans back in her chair. "Is that an awful explanation? Because it _feels_ awful."

"No," Robin assures. "It makes perfect sense."

They don't speak for a while, just smiles shyly at one another, until Robin feels his heart might break from everything he wants to ask of her, beg her, tell her.

It's her choice. He won't force her into anything, he certainly won't make her feel even more guilty. So he changes the subject and grabs a menu.

"I know we have had a lot to discuss, but this place has amazing happy hour appetizers and we only have 12 minutes to order them, so make your choices and I'll flag down the waitress."

Regina flashes one of those bright smiles and grabs a menu of her own.

And for a while, everything is like it was before.

Except…. not exactly.

It's a little hard to forget what she looks like naked, extremely hard to watch her savor each bite of her fig and brie crostini, to hear her moan and watch her eyes roll back and _not_ think of their night.

He thinks he notices her looking at him in a different way, but thinks it must be in his head, until he catches her glancing down to his arm, biting her lip but saying nothing, leaving his question about whether she intends on going into the city next weekend with Mary Margaret and Jasmine.

"What?" she asks, blushing and looking away as if she'd been caught with her hands in the cookie jar.

"Where were you just now?" he teases.

She shakes her head and mutters, "You don't want to know."

He thinks back to the heat of her gaze, the way her eyes had raked over his form, and well…

There was so much passion that night, so many words shared. Maybe she can't so easily forget it, either.

And he hates himself for hoping, but he lets himself do it anyway. Maybe this isn't over for either one of them.

She's not married yet.

And he has a few months with her left, and he'll use them to be the supportive friend she needs, and hope one day she will see him as more.


	6. Chapter 6

"Regina when I said Thanksgiving dinner started at four-thirty, I meant _the dinner._ Come over now! Everyone is over. We made fun appetizers! And we can make fun of the guys and their obsession with football," Mary Margaret whispers the last part, "And please, help me with Ingrid, she's too intense. I just invited her to be polite I had no idea she'd come."

"She's working on the study too," Regina laughs over speakerphone. Her closet is half on her bed right now, everything she removes just doesn't seem like it fits, somehow. It's so frustrating... "She can't go back home to North Dakota. Of course, she was going to take you up on your offer. Plus her boyfriend is coming over. What did you expect?"

"Well…" Mary Margaret whispers into the phone dramatically. "She _scares_ me. And Killian is not helping. He just parked himself with the boys and left her for me to entertain."

"She gets along with Mallory and Mulan, are they over yet?"

"No," Mary Margaret pouts. "They are late, too."

"You shouldn't have told us when dinner was if you wanted us so early that two and a half hours before dinner counts as "late"," Regina reminds.

"Well, you're right but I've never hosted a Thanksgiving dinner before. Ugh, Regina. What is taking you so long? Come over."

Truthfully, she had planned to be over by now to help Mary and David out. What is taking so long is that Robin is going to be at Thanksgiving and she is feeling….unexpectedly nervous. And that's why she's been trying on item after item, trying to find the perfect outfit to go to a dinner where nearly everyone is a couple but her and Robin…. Which is ridiculous.

To be clear it's not that she wants to wear something with the intent of turning him on, she's not going to flirt, that would be awful considering she's head over heels in love with Daniel. If she was intent on doing that she'd wear the tight red dress with the deep V that brings out all her curves.

She doesn't look like she's trying too hard to look _unattractive_ either, or like she's dressing like a church lady so he thinks she may be actively trying to thwart anything. and she doesn't want to look too casual — Regina always dresses for these occasions and that would be suspicious as well as if she tried too hard.

So yes, finding an outfit that doesn't accidentally say something she doesn't intend to is difficult.

Especially when things have been… weird for the last few weeks. Not that she'd ever confessed as much to Robin, but she wonders if he notices it too. All their conversations seem to have this edge of flirtation they didn't before they slept together. And she keeps on looking at him as a sex object. He… looks at her like that too, actually. Or maybe she's just noticing it more.

There's been regular morning meetings for coffee where she's ended up far too turned on and frustrated and guilty over that frustration for the entire day, happy hours where a few drinks bring out her imagination in the most terrible of ways, has her wishing she could come home with him, that he could do that thing with his tongue again.

She's had far too many daydreams and actual dreams about him, and she tries to convince herself it's self-sabotage, that she's only doing this because she's nervous about her life with Daniel.

She is just overthinking everything.

Speaking of overthinking, she settles on a deep purple pencil skirt with a black top, thick black tights, and boots, packs up her apple pie and the spicy sweet potato mash.

She tells herself it's a perfectly appropriate Thanksgiving outfit, and she almost believes it, right up until she arrives and Mary Margaret takes her coat.

"Yowzers," her friend says, her mouth dropping comically. "That outfit is hot."

"Not it's not!" Regina feels her cheeks heat immediately, god, this wasn't what she wanted.

Mary Margaret starts to walk to coat to the closet, but David picks that moment to walk in.

He gives Regina an obvious look over, just for a second, then mumbles, "Regina, you look nice today," before wandering back to the family room.

Mary Margaret shoots Regina a knowing glance and the two do the best they can to contain themselves before bursting into laughter.

"I told you!" Mary Margaret laughs.

She loves the relationship that Mary and David have. That he can check out her best friend and Mary Margaret can only laugh. Because it's innocent. He may _notice_ things or _appreciate_ things on rare occasions, but he clearly only has eyes for his soon-to-be-bride.

One day, maybe, she and Daniel will have that type of relationship.

"Hey, Mary, I—" Robin enters the kitchen clearly with a purpose, but his words die in this throat as he looks at Regina.

The look he gives her is far from innocent. And the feelings it conjures in her are far from innocent as well.

Shit.

"I didn't hear you come in," Robin stutters, swallowing, his eyes wandering all over her body and then looking away entirely as if he's caught on to how obvious he looks. "Um, happy Thanksgiving, Regina."

"She doesn't think she's wearing a sexy outfit," Mary Margaret tells him, looking at Regina with a knowing smile. "But I think you and David would disagree with that."

God, she is going to kill Mary Margaret.

"You both look gorgeous, as always," Robin mutters.

Mary Margaret is wearing an apron, a cable knit sweater, and black slacks. She's beautiful as always if a bit frazzled from the day's dinner.

And Robin is still looking at Regina like _that_ and it's entirely inappropriate. And entirely inappropriate that she's enjoying it.

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes and says "right, the both of us are wearing equally sexy outfits. This is my most tantalizing apron," then shares a look with Regina. "So what did you come in here for, Robin?

"Oh, right. I wanted to see if I could help with anything?" Robin asks almost too casually, plucking a grape from the fruit plate on the counter.

"Yes, you can put more pigs in a blanket in the oven since you boys just finished them," Mary Margaret sighs. "Or, you could stop eating everything in sight and wait for _dinner."_

"Hmm… Where are the rest of those pigs and their respective blankets?" Robin asks, throwing Regina a cheeky wink.

Regina rolls her eyes and tries to pretend everything is normal, the way Robin was so easily able to do. They had a moment and now it's over.

She grimaces and walks towards the wine, pouring herself a _very_ generous glass.

This is going to be a long night.

.::.

"What I'm saying is it's simply preposterous that they would leave that kid alone even _once._ He's a rather annoying child, I'd notice his absence almost immediately. 'Oh, what's that? I'm in the car and there's no whining child muttering about? Oh no, where's Kevin?'" Killian places his whiskey glass down with a little force, somewhere in the haze of day drinking this became quite an important argument to him. He's entertaining at least. Mulan and Mal seem to find him hilarious, and Ingrid is even smiling which is… almost unprecedented.

Robin is sitting against the foot of the couch and Regina is sitting between his legs, which sounds bad, but it's not, really. He's giving her a bit of back massage. Offered to after he saw her pulling at her neck.

A few hours ago she might have refused the offer but now she sees no reason to do so.

Earlier she had been on the verge of a panic attack because she can't shut her brain and her guilt off.

Thanksgiving dinner was all couples. Ingrid and Killian. David and Mary Margaret. Neal and Emma. Mallory and Mulan. And Robin and Regina.

She doesn't think she would have attended had she known it would be like this.

Neal was supposed to be here alone, but it turns out Emma surprised him with a last minute flight.

Regina should be happy for him, really, but she's not.

Ruby said she might show up, but her boyfriend ended up asking her to come with him to his uncle's in Scarsdale.

Throughout the night they've been treated as a couple, seated across from one another, placed on a team together for a game of Pictionary, Mary Margaret even tasked Robin with being Regina's personal helper as she made the brussels sprouts. And Regina had thought all these paired and shared activities should set off alarm bells in their friends' heads, were they not so self-involved.

She had caught herself then, realizing she was overthinking it entirely. Before they slept together, she and Robin had a steady, easy rhythm. They were close and touchy-feely and just… very friendly. And no one had ever thought there was more to the story. She had realized that it would be far more strange if they kept a distance from one another — yes, that staying apart would draw attention to their relationship, would become the giant scarlet letter stamped across their faces.

She had vowed, then, at that moment, to just act naturally with Robin as she always had. But she had struggled to find out how to act normally, especially with the guilt and lust and _feelings_ weighing her down.

It turns out the solution to turn off most of those concerns had been alcohol.

Not too terribly much, just a few glasses of wine with dinner and she's now enjoying an Irish coffee as they sit around the television joking and watching Christmas movies. She slightly worried about Robin when the suggestion to watch holiday movies was made, knowing there has been a bit of a melancholy haze over Christmas since his father died.

But Robin had seemed more than okay with it, so she relaxed into him and stopped thinking so much and decided to let herself feel instead.

Robin has rubbed her neck and shoulders in front of friends before (something tells her that is odd because if Killian ever made a move to rub Mary's back it would be weird as— no, no, take a sip of coffee and shut up inner voice).

This is just normal, and that's the end of it. This is just a night with her friends where they are distastefully celebrating colonialism.

"Don't tell Mary Margaret," Robin whispers in her ear, "But your pie was my favorite."

She does an almost comical sweep around the room with her eyes, but Killian is still making animated jokes about Christmas movies, Ingrid, David, Mallory, and Mulan are being a decent audience. Neal and Emma are whispering in the corner themselves, completely wrapped in a different conversation.

Regina looks at him slyly and elbows him in the ribs. "Don't say that too loudly if you want to live. She is so proud of her pumpkin pie."

"I like apple better," he shrugs. "And also your crust is amazing."

"I add a few secret ingredients," she says coyly back.

"Secrets you can share?" he asks

"Nope." she shakes her head, her hair tangles slightly in Robin's fingers as they dance along her back.

"What if I promised to keep your secret. Would you share with me then?"

He scratches up her neck, through her hair in this gentle motion and oh, that shouldn't feel as good as it does.

Her breath catches, and she knows he can hear the little sigh she makes.

If he notices, he decides not to mention it.

"I have to keep somethings to myself. That way you'll always need to come to see me when you want a good apple pie."

"Perfect. Expect me to become a frequent surprise guest. 'Well hello, Regina, I was just in the area and realized I needed some pie."

Regina chuckles. "Feel free to stop by with a bag full of apples and I'll take care of the rest."

She doesn't want to mention that soon she will be in LA, and that's a hell of a trip for apple pie. She pretends, just for now, that she's staying here, indefinitely, in this ugly town with its dreary, cold weather and aloof strangers.

On paper, it sounds so horrible here.

So why does she love it so much?

"I'm going to get another coffee, do you want something?" she asks, craning her head around to face him.

"Mm, another coffee, make it Irish."

She takes his cup from him and smiles.

There's this urge to give him a quick kiss on the lips that she _knows_ is wrong. She squats on stocking feet instead and balances herself to stand.

Except she hears a little sound from Robin that startles her.

So she bends back down and whispers in his ear, "What?"

She watches his cheeks heat, his lips turn up in a guilty way.

His voice is a whispered chuckle, "You just um, sort of gave me a show of your perfect backside when you were standing up right then."

Now it's Regina's turn to blush. "Oh, God, did I just stick my ass in your face?"

He snickers, then nods, "Yes, and it was incredible."

His voice is all low and raspy in her ear. It brings her back to that night when he was whispering far more detailed, dirty compliments while moving inside her.

"I'll bet," she flirts back, before remembering they aren't supposed to be doing this. God, she needs a cold shower. "Let me get you that coffee," she says, forcing herself to walk away.

.::.

He's beginning to rethink this "don't act any different than usual" thing he ridiculously convinced Regina to do.

Not because it's tempting him any more than usual (he's always let his mind go into the gutter when she's been close to him for long periods of time).

It's that now that they've slept together, he's starting to wonder if she's feeling at all like he is, and not asking and not knowing is driving him crazy.

At first, she seemed tense — tense enough to where Mulan had pulled him aside and asked if something was wrong because Regina seemed upset.

He would really like to have a conversation with Regina where he asks her why she exactly thinks their friends go to him to ask about her state of mind when they suspect she's upset. It's telling, isn't it? They just know that he'd understand her best.

He had told Mulan that he suspected Regina was having a difficult time with the long distance, and Mulan had to give a knowing nod.

"Take care of her," she had prodded, with a little smile. "It's hard being on your own for the holidays after being part of a couple for years."

"She's still part of a couple," Robin had muttered, more for his benefit than for hers, because he keeps letting himself forget. This is the first holiday where he has Regina without Daniel, and he rather likes it.

"Yeah, but..." Mulan had said, glancing over at her, "you know what I mean."

He meant to talk to her about it, but she loosened up quickly, and now she's acting quite normally, very loving and natural and sort of… all over him.

And it's really, really making him want to kiss her.

He's never mentioned that he has a thing for her in those straight skirts, so it's definitely not for him that she's wearing that outfit, but she looks like straight sex on a stick wearing it and it's becoming increasingly hard not to just touch her, cop a quick feel, as she walks by him.

He'd do it if they were together, just brush his hand against that perfect backside of hers, discreetly, softly, just to let her know there was enough interest.

And then the teasing would build, slowly and sweetly, until they couldn't wait to get home and fuck.

That's how it would be if they were together.

But they aren't, so he doesn't get to touch her, and he certainly doesn't get to seek her to work off his building desire.

He just has to let it build and grow, until he can force himself to chase the thoughts out of his mind, or at least reserve them for later tonight when he's alone.

He shouldn't be doing that anymore while thinking of her, it's probably not healthy. He's supposed to be letting her go and moving on.

But neither letting her go nor moving on feels right at the moment, so fuck it.

They've been so flirty all night it's nearly impossible for him to not to think of her in that way.

He's trying, but now she has her head resting against his shoulder with her hand on his knee, and it's very… distracting.

"You know one of the things I'm going to miss most about this place?"

"Using my shoulder as a pillow?" he asks, causing her to laugh.

"I'm sorry, do you want me to move?"

"No, I'm just teasing. What will you miss most?"

" _One_ of the things," she clarifies, squeezing his leg as if to assure him he will be missed as well. "The bagels at Granny's deli."

"Mm, now you have me thinking about them," Robin sighs, "and we just had a huge Thanksgiving meal."

"And you had three pieces of pie," Regina reminds, causing him to laugh.

"You should have a big long list of all the things about this place you'll miss, and make sure you get your fill of them before you go," Robin suggests. "Eat those bagels until you're sick of them and never want to see them again."

Regina giggles. "I'd gain fifty pounds."

"But wouldn't it be worth it?"

Regina only shakes her head. "That doesn't work for me, anyway. I don't get sick on the things I love. The more I have them, the more I want them."

It makes Robin's throat go dry, thinking of all the things he'd like to give her that he'd hope she'd never get sick of.

It's a little later, when she's laughing a bit too hard at one of David's jokes that Mary Margaret raises an eyebrow and looks at Robin.

"You're driving her home, you know."

"That's fine," he assures.

"I can call an uber," Regina waves off, as if she has the whole thing covered.

"No, the surge price on one of those tonight will be absurd. Robin will take you." Mary Margaret says authoritatively.

"Why are you acting like my mother?" Regina asks, raising an eyebrow. "We all know I'm the mature one in this friendship."

Robin shakes his head and can't help but take Mary Margaret's side. "Okay, mature one, just want to remind you that you laughed really hard at a fart joke told by _Killian._ "

Regina laughs and surrenders her drink. "Good point. Cut me off; I'm done."

She doesn't drink after that, but she's still bubbly and giddy until goodbyes are said. She's so much more confident and bold. She teases David and snarks Killian, isn't afraid to place bets on the most inane of things. She seems freer. And he wonders if other people see it, but doesn't have the courage to ask.

Mary Margaret places two bags full of leftovers in Robin's hand (one bag for him, one for Regina), they say their goodnights, and then they are alone together.

"That, Regina says, groaning into her seat, "was a fun night."

"Mhm," Robin agrees as he puts the car into drive. "Glad you enjoyed it."

"I wanted to tell you I like that shirt. Sweater, whatever," she giggles. "but I couldn't think of how to say it without it sounding weird."

"Because it's just plain gray and you've seen it a thousand times?" Robin asks, smiling.

"Yes, probably that," Regina laughs, "But it's one of my favorites."

"Well, then, I am glad I wore it." He's still driving, his eyes on the road, and not having to look at her makes it easier for him to admit, "Of course it being Thanksgiving and all I would say I am most grateful for the outfit you wore. I love those skirts of yours."

"Do you?" The question sounds honest, but it should be rhetorical.

"Ha," Robin grins, glancing at her. "like you don't know."

She shakes her head. "Well, if wanted to wear something sexy I'd wear the leather skirt."

Robin blows out a slow breath of air. "God, the leather skirt. But this one too. And all of them. Let's talk about something else a little more PG before I get into a car accident."

He hears her little laugh. "I like Ingrid and Killian together. She keeps him in check."

"He's totally whipped," Robin agreed. "And I think he likes it?"

"Definitely," Regina agrees. "Did you see the look she gave him when he made that joke about chastity belts?"

They both laugh at that.

"He'll pay for that later," Robin muses.

"How do you think he'll pay?" Regina asks.

"I'm not well-versed in how girlfriends punish their boyfriends," Robin admits. "It's been years since I had a real one. I suppose Marian's style was more ignoring me, and um, shutting down the physical."

"Classic" Regina snorts. "Ingrid seems a bit more creative. Like she'd _actually_ crack a whip."

 _"_ Killian would like that, though," Robin grimaces, "not much of a punishment."

"Have you ever done that?" Regina asks, then almost comically puts her hand over her mouth. "Sorry that was a terrible question, apparently I _have_ had a lot to drink."

Robin smirks. "We are all friends here, it's no big deal. And no, no whips for me. Nothing that crazy. Though…"

He stops himself before he can overshare, but Regina is interested, motioning for him to continue. And, hell, why not?

"Marian liked to be spanked during sex," Robin admitted. "And Sabine used handcuffs on me once. That's as far as I have ventured into the world of BDSM."

"How daring," Regina drawls sarcastically.

"What about you?" he asks, "have you taken out a whip?"

"No. But apparently Marian and I have something in common."

Well, it's certainly unfair, for her to subtly drop she likes being spanked when she's wearing a skirt that shows off her perfect ass.

"Have anything in common with Sabine?" he asks before turning into her neighborhoods.

Regina shrugs. "I think I have more in common with _you._ She can handcuff me any day."

Robin would laugh if his mind weren't swimming in inappropriate images of the two of them.

"It was… interesting. But the cuffs were too cheap and kept opening."

"A shame," Regina murmurs.

He pulls into her driveway a few seconds later with a sigh.

"Thank you for the ride," Regina says softly. She's not opening the door yet and quite frankly he isn't ready to let her go yet.

Then he watches her fumble with her seat belt, frustrated as it doesn't come off.

"What is wrong with this thing?" She asks angrily.

Robin goes to release it for her, but it appears stuck.

"You twisted it," he notes, looking at where the belt is tangled around her. "It's stuck because it's in upside down, here, let me…"

He takes off his own seat belt and then tries to help her, and in his effort to get it off, must tickle her in some way, because she's giggling and pushing at his hands.

"Robin, it's okay, I'll figure it out."

"No I almost got it I just need more slack and I need to untwist—"

"I— stop!" She is laughing in earnest, trying to cover her stomach, "I can get it, just turn on the light, and—"

"How did you even do this? This thing is in some complicated knot."

"I don't know, just let me—"

He finally untwists the last of it, then pulls hard and gets enough slack to pull back the buckle from the chair work on loosening it. He does, and it springs free.

"See?" He asks triumphantly. "I don't know why you were fighting me, I had it taken care of."

"You were tickling me!" she answers.

"I was not!" But he will, now, " _This_ is tickling," he says, slipping a hand underneath her coat and finding that spot he knows makes her a giggling mess.

"Oh, _this_ isn't tickling?" Regina's fingers dance underneath his upper arms, causing him to seize up in laughter. "Regina, stop, I've no need for you to help me with my seat belt, it's not as if I'm a brilliant — hahaha, stop— a brilliant scientist like you who can't even work a simple strap, you…"

Somewhere in the attempt to tease one another, she's become so close, smiling, laughing, and looking so good.

And fuck it if this wasn't a ridiculous excuse to touch one another, it's not as if anyone is bearing witness to it.

He's not sure who makes the move first, but one of them does, because he's kissing her.

Hard.

And a lot.

Her hands are fisting at his shirt to pull him closer, but when he goes willingly, drawing even closer, she lets him go. For a split second he thinks she's rethinking it, but then he feels her cool fingers slipping up his shirt, rubbing up against his torso, in a way that is decidedly _not_ tickling.

She's let wandering hands be a thing, apparently, so he tugs her a bit more towards him, just so she can lean towards him enough to where he can up and grope at her bottom.

God, her ass is a marvel. He wants more, wants to strip her and fuck her, but they have too many clothes on and it's too tight a space to even dream of it. So instead he lets himself enjoy what he can and prays she invites him in to finish what they've started.

She's moaning into his mouth, rocking her ass into his palms, and he lets himself imagine what it would feel to have her grinding against his already pulsing erection.

But before he can get too far into his fantasies, Regina is pulling back, her eyes shut tight, skin flushed and eyes wet.

Shit.

"We um, we can't, I shouldn't have— Shit, I'm so sorry, Robin."

He's not mad at her. Not really. Frustrated with the situation, but not mad at her.

"I should say I'm sorry, too." He pants. _But I'm not,_ he finishes in his head. He doubts there's ever going to be a situation where he feels apologetic for kissing her _back._

"No, this was all my fault, I'm sorry," she places her hand on her head, "I had all this wine just so I could act normally, and then you are just," she lets out a choked sob, "wonderful, and so good good-looking it is unfair, you know, and then you look at me that way, and I…"

His heart melts at hearing the words. He's more convinced than ever that. they are what is right, what is true.

But she roots herself down then, pulls herself of whatever downward spiral she was headed, shaking her head softly. "I'm getting married, Robin. This can't happen."

 _Don't get married_ he yearns to say. But he won't, he knows it will only upset her and push her away. She has to make this decision on her own, without him pushing her into it.

Then he'd be no better than Daniel.

"Why don't we just say we got caught up in the moment, and the holidays and all those romantic Christmas movies Mary Margaret kept talking about, and forgive ourselves for this?"

Regina wipes at her tears and sniffs. "That would be charitable. But not entirely honest."

"You've been under a lot of stress, you're supposed to be planning a wedding but you're all alone out here, and you're making a big move, you're going to have a few weak moments." He smooths a hand over her back while he speaks. "And I really, really love your ass in that skirt, so see, we both have stuff going on."

That makes her laugh, at least, has her nodding, lacing her fingers in his and squeezing them tight.

"It's going to be alright, Regina," he promises, though really, he doesn't know whether things will ever be as such if he's apart from her.

Still, he kisses her on the forehead and tells her to sleep well, forces himself to let her go, because he doesn't own her, he doesn't control her, he doesn't make decisions for her, and he won't ever make her feel otherwise.


	7. Chapter 7

"Regina I _swear_ the Snow Castle is gorgeous! You should really look at it, it's my _dream_ place to marry, and your mother would love it. Very classy." Mary Margaret is picking at her salad — stabbing at it is more like it, as if that would add anything to her argument.

"It's called _The Snow Castle_." Regina retorts, "it sounds like there should be some sort of bounces house outback and a build-a-bear station in the lobby."

"Why are you so difficult?" Mary Margaret groans, looking at Robin as he sits down next to them in the employee cafeteria. "Can you talk some sense into her and tell her to at least _visit_ this place?"

Regina's throat goes dry, the way it always does when the wedding is mentioned in front of Robin. She's been trying to keep it from him, really. Which is weird because Daniel keeps asking her what Robin thinks of certain places and ideas. And Mary Margaret keeps finding ways to invite him to things which is just…. Weird.

Well, the caterer tasting party wasn't weird at all, _that_ was fun. For the entire night, she had forgotten she was organizing a wedding and just got lost in the experience of tasting and rating different appetizers and meals.

He offered to help her find the perfect wedding cake, too (offered to eat free cake is more like it).

It's odd that he's been involved, but Regina hasn't ever wanted to make things even more awkward by asking him if he's _really_ okay with this.

Plus being alone with him, well, that's simply not going well. Every time they have a moment together she feels like she's fighting a magnetic pull to do things she shouldn't.

Like making out with him in the car on Thanksgiving evening, for example.

They've had a few more moments like that, quiet moments waiting for drinks together at happy hour, where whiskey and wine dulled their better judgment, the drives out to the different caterers where they found themselves wrapped in conversation and familiarity, morning coffee meetings where they both choke on words unsaid and stare at one another for a bit too long.

Moments, yes, but overall, they've been handling this fairly well. And though she doesn't like talking about wedding plans in front of Robin, it seems he doesn't mind.

Robin's chuckle interrupts her thoughts, drags her back to the present.

"You want _me_ to convince _Regina_ to do something?" He asks Snow with a flare of dramatic indignance. "I'm purely here to offer a male perspective on things. I don't push, I don't have any ideas of my own, and I certainly don't tell the bride what to do."

Mary Margaret raises an eyebrow. "Sounds like you've been given some sort of marching orders."

"I wouldn't say marching orders. I would say I am making sure the male perspective is well-represented for Daniel."

That gives Regina pause because Daniel never told her that he spoke to Robin about the wedding, or that he wanted his input.

And she wants to ask more about it, but not in front of Mary Margaret.

"This is a big day," Mary Margaret says, looking at Regina in that sappy way she has about her. Oh, god, no, she doesn't want to talk about it.

"Big day?" Mulan asks as she takes a seat with the group, her plate piled high with an assortment of food.

"End of an era," Mary Margaret sighs.

"Stop," Regina pleads, she hasn't even had a chance to tell Robin yet, she doesn't…

"Did I miss something on my calendar?" Robin asks "What is today?"

"It's—"

"Regina's handing in her two weeks notice," Mary Margaret blurts out, and Regina shrinks and feels like she might die.

There's silence, even Mulan looks shocked for a few seconds before she shakes her head and grabs at Regina's arm.

"I am seriously going to miss you. And the company is going to miss you even more than I will — I half expect them to refuse to accept your notice."

Regina laughs, then works up the courage to look to her left, to see Robin's reaction.

He's looking at her…

There's no anger about not being told earlier as she had expected.

In fact, he even looks apologetic and sweet.

He clears his throat and says, "This has to be hard for you. I know how much you love your job."

"Yeah," she nods, unable to fight the tears that come up. "Yeah, I just—"

"Oh, Regina," Mary Margaret whispers, "I'm so sorry. Think of how happy you'll be when you're in Los Angeles with Daniel! It'll be worth it, right?"

God, Mary needs to shut up. She thinks she's helping but she's only making it worse.

She can only stifle an embarrassing sob, and then she breathes, in and out, willing herself to calm down.

Robin's hand is on her back, rubbing lightly.

"If it doesn't feel right, you could always hold off for a bit," he soothes.

"No, no I can't. I told Daniel I'd be over by January. I have to just bite the bullet," Regina sighs, "and I requested the week between Christmas and New Year's off ages ago, and the study is going to be mostly done—"

"What's the harm in seeing it out to the end?" Mulan asks, munching loudly on a pear.

"I thought it would be over before Christmas, and… it's taking longer and I have no idea how much longer it will be and I don't want to make Daniel wait anymore."

Those are half-truths. True, but every day the distance grows with him and she worries she might be falling out of love with him. And every day around Robin makes things more complicated. Her mother is in her ear, insinuating all sorts of things about Regina's ability to compete with women in Los Angeles that Daniel sees every day, in fact, her mother thinks the entire thing is ridiculous, that Regina will absolutely fail at this engagement and embarrass herself and her family, right after they went to the trouble of announcing it in the local paper and everything!

It's that shame that had her preparing her resignation letter.

"I think I'm too selfish to get married," Mulan declares. "No way would I do what you are doing."

"No way would Mallory ask you to do it," Robin can't help but point out.

"True," Mulan agrees easily, and Regina suddenly feels very defensive. It's not that bad with Daniel, not really.

But before she can try to defend him and their relationship, Mary Margaret speaks up.

"So the company Christmas party is going to be even more important, it'll almost double as a farewell party for Regina."

Oh no, not a farewell party. She is having trouble leaving as it is, and this won't help.

Regina shakes her head. "There is no need for any farewells. It's not like you'll never see me again. You'll hear from me every day. And the wedding will be here… honestly, you'll see me so much that you will get sick of me."

"I very much doubt that," Robin says in earnest.

"I was thinking of skipping the Christmas party," Regina admits softly.

"That's absurd," Mulan says, "you _love_ Christmas. You get more excited for the party than you do almost anything else that doesn't involve Chemistry."

"You have to come!" Mary Margaret urges, looking at Robin as if he can help. Robin and the holidays are… complicated, to say the least, so she's not surprised when he doesn't speak up. But Mary Margaret appears to think he should say something, because, after a moment of quiet, she calls out his name. An angry, whiny "Rob- _inn!"_ that must snap him into action.

"Absurd Christmas decorations, Free booze, free food, an opportunity to watch John try to hit on Merida again, and of course, lovely company. You can't pass that up. Unless you have a good reason I haven't thought of." He states his case but doesn't push too hard, leaves it up to her. She likes that about him.

"I don't want it to be a goodbye party," Regina admits. "I'm going to miss you guys all a lot and I don't want to be sad throughout the night. Especially not at a Christmas party."

"Well," Robin shrugs. "We'll make sure it's anything but a sad goodbye party, then."

.::.

Two days later she's standing by the bar at a very decadent Christmas party reminding herself that her friends promised her this would be a celebration.

They always rent out out this expensive hotel ballroom, a historic one where the floor is marble and ceiling littered with crystal chandeliers. Decorations covering the room, including one large Christmas tree fashionably decorated in Pan's logo colors of red and gold.

Her friends have probably already arrived. Regina hasn't seen them yet, but she's worried when she does, she might cry.

The bartender is just making her gin and tonic when Robin comes behind her.

"Look at who is in the holiday spirit," he whispers into her ear.

She smiles at him coyly. She's wearing a red dress and decided to do her hair into something… a bit more festive. Two side braids with a low messy bun. And she might have stuck a bit of decorative ivy in the bun. As much as she had been dreading this party she's always loved Christmas. She simply couldn't resist.

She loves the cool weather, the smell of celebration and campfire in the winter air. She loves Christmas trees and holiday baking, hot chocolate and every prayer for holiday snow that comes true.

Fuck, Christmas in LA is going to be awful. There is a downside to celebrating in Maine — namely, her awful, judgmental mother — but perhaps they can suck it up and spend extended holidays there sometimes to get away from the perfect, tropical weather.

"You know how much I like Christmas," she says with a shrug.

"I do. And real quick, just to get out of the way because it'll be bugging me the whole night," Robin takes in a deep breath and blows it out slowly. "Did you… did you do it?"

She knows what he's talking about. The resignation letter.

"Turned it in last night," she sighs.

Robin is actively trying not to look too disappointed — she knows that. But there's a flicker of devastation on his face that makes her heart hurt.

"Gold talked to me today; he wasn't happy about me leaving. But he did say I'd be welcome back anytime."

"Well, maybe you'll have an occasion to take him up on that offer." There's this fake smile plastered on his face Regina wants to wipe off. Fuck pretending to be happy for her, she'll take his sincerity over that any day.

"Maybe." She won't, probably, because Daniel wants to keep moving forward, and coming back here wouldn't be part of his plan.

But still, not worth mentioning that.

"Mary Margaret has the gang parked up over there," Robin points towards a corner table where many of her friends are sitting. "She got her hands on a few bottles of champagne—"

"How exactly did she manage that?"

"How did she manage to sweet talk the bartender into giving her good friends champagne so they could be happy on Christmas? She's Mary Margaret, I have no idea. The world bows to her every wish."

"That's actually true," Regina laughs.

"We're toasting to you," Robin says, putting his hand on the small of her back. "Come on, let's go."

"I said I didn't want this to be a farewell party," Regina groans, walking over with him begrudgingly.

"It's not. It's a 'see you soon' party." Robin retorts, mimicking the inflection of Mary Margaret's voice so well Regina can almost hear her saying it.

Well then.

"Merry Christmas, Regina!" Mary Margaret says, grabbing at a bag at her feet and handing it to her. "I really should have thrown you a bridal shower before you left, it just kept slipping my mind. And since the company was doing all the work for us…." she trails off and shrugs. "Well, congrats on everything."

Regina isn't one for the spotlight on the best of occasions, but now, as she's fighting tears, it's hard to open the gifts her friends have given her. They aren't really bridal shower gifts (she's not registered anywhere, anyway). It's obvious they are not so cleverly disguised goodbye presents, and that's another tug at her heart.

Gift cards. Sunglasses and suntan lotion for her new life in LA. A watch from Mary Margaret that Regina had been eyeing for months. An interesting dessert cookbook from Mulan. A small bottle of scotch from David. Several other kind and thoughtful presents from her friends, things that bring back memories, that make her laugh, and almost make her cry.

And she shouldn't be thinking this but with every gift, she worries about what Robin's will be. Sometimes — not often, but sometimes he could really blow her away with a thoughtful present. Daniel always shines at gift giving, but Robin can be a close second.

There's an unspoken agreement that his gift is last.

In the end, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wrapped small jewelry box with a card and a sheepish smile.

It might be in a ring box but she knows it's not a ring. Still, her heart still knocks as she unwraps and opens the box.

Inside is…

Pennies.

Several, actually. Pressed, elongated pennies.

She remembers telling Robin she always used to get a pressed penny every time she saw a machine when she was on vacation to make a souvenir of a good memory.

But these are custom made. One is of the building they work at with "Pan Industries" engraved underneath.

Another of the coffee shop she likes, her favorite bar, a little engraved picture of the skyline seen from across the river, and even one of Robin's apartment with the engraving "Most Pretentious Place on Earth".

She laughs as they recall memories of each place, completely unaware she's also tearing up until the salty tears roll down her lips.

"I think this might be the best gift I've ever received," Regina laughs. "Better than the year Daniel hunted down all those happy meal toys I had always wanted when I was a child and turned them into ornaments."

Robin bites his lip and looks like he wants to say something but must think better of it.

"Daniel's gifts may start getting less creative in LA," John chuckles, and Regina raises an eyebrow in question.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing. By the way, don't forget the card," Robin whispers.

She had, thinking it might say something sentimental, but she opens it now.

And inside is a short and sweet note, plus a slip of paper she reads carefully.

"What is… what is this Robin?"

"Enough airline miles for a trip back to visit anytime," he smiles, squeezing her hand. "A standing invitation to come back to visit whenever you want."

"Oh," is all Regina can say without full on sobbing. But it's going to come, and she can't be on display. "This is why I didn't want a goodbye party," Regina laughs as the tears continue to fall.

"Alright, no more talk of goodbyes. We got it out of the way. On to holiday cheer. I have a perfect view of the mistletoe in the doorway and I'm fairly certain Kristoff is hanging under it waiting for a lady."

The conversation becomes lighter, and then they break up a bit, some moving out to dance, others to say hello to other colleagues and friends.

Regina excuses herself to take her presents to her car, Robin offering to help.

"You okay?" he asks

Regina looks up at him and decides she cannot lie.

"No, I'm not okay," she admits. "Look at what everyone did for me, I've.. never had this before. My _family_ doesn't love me this much."

"I'm sure that's not true. You're very lovable."

"So are you," she smiles. "But even John seemed to think Daniel was not going to do things like this for me in Los Angeles," she presses on. "which was, by the way, a really odd comment."

Robin sighs and looks at her all guilty.

"What?" she asks, her brows furrowing. "Clearly you know something."

"I do. Okay…" Robin groans. "I… you may hate me for this, or maybe you won't believe me—"

"I know you wouldn't lie to me," she whispers, hitting the button to her car trunk.

"Okay," Robin says, stuffing the bags into the trunk. "Okay. I promised Daniel I wouldn't tell but…"

He winces and shrugs.

"The happy meal ornaments were my idea. And the year he got your old locket fixed and refurbished, my idea. And the year he did that little scavenger hunt? That was also me. The Strandbeest kit, too. The tickets to Into the Woods was my idea. That impromptu trip into the city and overnight at The Library Hotel, I sort of had planned that only because the Museum of Natural History had that special Egyptian exhibit. And, um..."

Regina cannot believe what she is hearing.

And he's right, she is mad. Not so much at him but at Daniel. And maybe herself.

"He always took credit," she murmurs. "He _always_ took credit and I praised him and bragged to everyone about how well he knew me. And you _let_ me!"

"What was I supposed to do? Once I did it for him the first time he told me I set the bar too high and he needed help. It… it kept happening and then I couldn't get out of it, and honestly, I just liked seeing you happy and some of those gifts and I couldn't get them for you myself. I couldn't take you overnight to New York or get you theatre tickets, or fix your broken locket, or…" He bites his lip and takes her hand, his fingers stroking her ring, and oh god, no. "buy you a diamond ring. Not as your best friend. But Daniel could and Daniel wanted to, and I just wanted to see you happy."

"I'm _marrying_ him. I'm changing my whole life for him and he's been _lying_ to me, and you helped him keep the lie!"

She shoves at him, and Robin looks absolutely distraught.

"I didn't think it was a big deal; it was only gifts, so what if I knew your taste a little better? He was the one you wanted to be with, right?"

She thinks about how many times she thought of Daniel's gift giving as a sign, as evidence that he really understood her. Robin had no idea how much stake she put into those gifts. She didn't even know herself until now.

"At least Daniel cares enough to come to me for help, right?" he asks softly. "He cared about your happiness when he asked for me for help. That was always important to me, and a big reason I never said anything. I might not have liked that he didn't know you well enough, but I did like that he cared enough to ask someone who did."

"He still lied."

"And I did too, I'm sorry. I should have told you the second I told you I loved you, I just… I don't want to be the guy who trashed your fiancé hoping I can convince you he's an asshole and you should leave him for me. But I'm so, so sorry. You have every right to be angry with me."

"I'm not angry with you," she sighs. "What you did… all those presents, they were so sweet and touching, I just—"

She can't tell him how much it means because it's impossible to put into words.

"I can't imagine all the effort those pennies took."

Robin cannot help but laugh. "It was… interesting to hunt down. But totally worth it once I found someone who could do it for me."

"I've never had anyone go to all that trouble before…" she stops and swallows. "I thought Daniel was that person, Robin."

Robin sighs sadly. "I should have told you a while ago. I didn't know how without sounding like a hurt, jealous asshole. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she waves, because her entire relationship with Daniel can't just be about presents. This doesn't change anything. "I'm just embarrassed that I never knew, and a bit emotional over leaving. Can we just forget this and go back to the party and forget all this?"

Robin nods and walks her back to the party.

The last hour is fun, if a bit bittersweet, full of dancing and laughter. She so rarely enjoys big parties, but she finds she really enjoys this night. She loves her work friends, truly, has never felt more at ease than she does with them. They accept her for who she is. They understand her in ways no one else does.

She was so lucky to find a home here. She will miss it so much.

She pulls back a bit just to soak up the image of her friends together amongst the holly and the poinsettias, beautifully decorated trees. God, she loves Christmas. This was a perfect last party for her. Her favorite holiday with her favorite people

"Having a good night?" Robin asks cheerily.

"Yes," she sighs. "Except… it's going to all end soon and I'm going to cry having to say all these goodbyes."

Robin seems to contemplate this for a moment before telling her "Then don't."

She shoots him a skeptical scowl, but he elaborates, "Let's sneak off now. Then your last memory of this party is holiday fun and cheer, not the music going off, the lights turning on, and all of saying sad goodbyes. Leave on a good note."

That sounds wonderful to her. Her lips turn up on a smile and she asks, "Where will we go?"

"Well, the city is all decorated for Christmas which I know you love, and it's a nice, if cold night," Robin shrugs. "And I was wondering, if, by chance, you might like a walk in the moonlight?"

It is the perfect way to end the night, she thinks. There could not be a more perfect conclusion to a fun, emotional night.

So she agrees.

He grabs their coats and then her hand and steals her away before the party can shut down on them.

.::.

The last few hours have been absolute bliss, far the opposite of what he had expected when he started today. Christmas is a happy time for most— it's happy for him, too, but it reminds him of his father, so there's a bit of pain already there. On top of that, well, he has tried not to think about Regina leaving, but hearing she turned in her notice had been a huge punch to the gut.

He has been trying so hard to be at peace with this, but all the while he's let himself hope she'd somehow come to her senses and cancel this move.

He realizes that was foolish. She's given her notice and she's really going.

Something broke him out of that misery, somewhere around seeing how happy she was opening presents, how easy they've fit together tonight.

And confessing that he's been secretly picking out her presents was so oddly freeing that he feels physically lighter.

She is leaving, he knows that for sure now, but the two of them share a connection and an intimacy she and Daniel don't have. Maybe they have something themselves but what he has with Regina is special.

He buys her hot chocolate and they walk along the streets to the Christmas tree, watching her as she soaks in every window display of every little shop they pass.

"I love when they decorate the street lights like that," Regina says, pointing to the bits of evergreen and lights that wrap around each post.

"It's pretty," Robin agrees.

"My favorite part about Christmas in Maine was the decorations," she sighs. "Mother didn't appreciate imagination or stories. She never really did the Santa Clause thing, didn't take much stock in over celebrating the holiday… found the holiday movies trite and cliche. Thought gifts were too overdone. But decorations — tasteful ones — she liked them. So I always got to decorate around Christmas, or we'd drive around to see light displays… I loved it."

"And you always tried to sneak the fun ornaments onto the tree," Robin says, recalling conversations they had in the past.

Regina giggles. "Yes. The Disney ornaments and the ones I would make at school… I would sneak them on to her impeccable tree."

"You were probably the cutest child to ever exist," Robin smirks.

"I had my awkward stages," Regina admits. "Not so cute, trust me."

"I can't, not when I full well know you don't realize how adorable you are," Robin flirts (yes, yes flirting and he doesn't care).

"I am not adorable," Regina counters. "I'm sure there are many people who work with me in the lab who would laugh at that description."

"They don't know you like I do, then."

"Hmm," Regina smiles. "I think you're biased."

"Oh I _know_ I am. But I also know that one of my favorite parts about Christmas is watching you get excited. I can only imagine that was even more magical to see when you were a child."

"Do you miss Christmas in England?" Regina asks softly. "You went back the two years I met you, but last year you went home with John and this year—"

"This year I'm also going to Montana with John," he confirms. She knew that already but he supposes Regina just wanted to make certain he hasn't changed his mind.

She knows why he doesn't go home, but she waits for him to talk about it. She's checking on him.

With everything going on in her life she still is checking on him. Bless her.

"I miss my dad at Christmas time; yes," he admits. "But spending Christmas with the family back at home seems to make it worse. For all of us. My mom started going on these trips with her friends to get away for the holidays, and I encouraged it. And my brother… I love Luke, but he's got his family just started and is making new traditions. I prefer to visit them when it's not the holidays so we don't throw each other pity parties remembering when dad was alive."

"I'm sorry. I know the holidays can be awful for those grieving."

"I am mostly over it, it's just…" He sighs. "I like some of the traditions, so I do them sometimes just by myself. It sounds silly but I like where John's parents live because it's in the woods, and you know, we lived sort of out there in this wooded area. In the winter sometimes my dad and I would take these walks out into the forest, if we were lucky enough to get snow we'd go do those hikes and go over the lake. Dad loved nature. So sometimes I like to go out for a bit of a hike over by John's, just alone, just to wander and talk to my dad for a bit."

"You never told me this before," Regina says softly.

"I've never really told anyone," Robin admits.

"Is that why you like going out for hikes in the snow?"

"Yes," he nods. "Dad would have loved how often it snows here. We went for trips to Switzerland a few times, and he loved that. He was Mr. Christmas, in every way. Right down to his love of winter and the cold."

"I bet I would have loved him."

Oh yes, Regina would have. And he would have loved her. They would have had a holiday bonanza together. He chuckles thinking of his father and Regina creating the most magical and absurd Christmas imaginable.

His heart swells with the thought.

"Oh, yes, you two would have been good friends."

She squeezes his hand and they walk together a bit in silence. Robin thinks of his father, of the things they used to do together, what they used to share, but there's something missing from when he recalls those memories.

"Normally when I talk about him it hurts," he admits. "But this — sharing with you, there's none of that. I just feel happy to share the memory." He stops walking and looks at her. "Thank you so much, Regina."

"I didn't do anything but listen," she objects.

"Yes, exactly. Thank you for that." He swoops down and presses a kiss to her forehead. She returns it on his cheek.

She won't ever know how good she is at just being there for him in moments where he least expects it.

"I'm sorry, Grumpy's has a 'make-your-own-s'mores' station?" Robin asks, pointing at the sign in the window.

"And we have a whole hour until they close," Regina notes.

Robin grabs her hand and walks over to the door with a purpose.

They roast s'mores and drink eggnog and then hot chocolate, Robin sharing more Christmas traditions freely now, because the pain in reliving the memories is gone, which is such a blessing he can almost not believe it.

She laughs at all the stories that tumble out about his father, Regina sharing some of her own. Her father is a good man, if not a bit meek. He would sneak treats for her, buy her fast food and throw away the evidence, take her to junky movies… all things Robin thinks his dad would have done as well.

He's never met Regina's father but he thinks he might like him, despite the fact the man lets his wife emotionally torture Regina.

He could sit here with her until morning, between s'mores and good conversation and the harmless flirting, the way his leg keeps rubbing against hers, how he takes every opportunity to scratch lightly at her arm, her doing the same — god, is she ever beautiful and god how he wants her.

He could stay until the sweet build up from the sentimental evening becomes too much to bear, but it's late, and the number of customers keeps dropping and Robin doesn't want to be the last one keeping wait staff around. So he pays the check and ushers her out.

They keep talking, lost in conversation as they stroll, reminiscing and getting lost in sweet memories, becoming closer, more wrapped up in each other as they walk.

Who knew they had so much to share with one another after three years of close friendship?

They should have a lifetime together.

He has an arm against the back of her back and Regina has her arm fully around him, her head leaning against his shoulder as they walk.

She chuckles in the middle of a story about burning Christmas cookies. "I… why are we in front of your apartment?"

He looks up and realizes that yes, they've walked all the back to his apartment. It seems he subconsciously led them there, and he knows why.

He takes a deep breath and holds out his hand.

"Come upstairs with me."

She's still smiling, clinging to some form of innocence, though they both know what he means.

"What for? _Another_ cup of hot chocolate?" she asks, but Robin shakes his head.

"Come upstairs and come to bed with me."

He eyes go wide, the smile falling off her face, and she looks so indecisive, she's not running away, thank god, so he has a chance.

"I have so few really good days, especially around the holidays. And this has been a perfect night, and I want to end it with you, right now, in bed with me."

"Robin," her voice is so soft, tone almost pleading. "I have to—"

"I know you're leaving. I know soon you'll go away and we will see each other maybe twice a year if we're lucky. That's coming soon but it's not now, is it? Right now you and I are here, and I can barely stand to go a day without hearing from you, and I don't care what happens in the future, I am asking you, today, now, to be with me. Just for tonight."

She still isn't walking away, though she looks terrified and conflicted, she hasn't interrupted to call him crazy or let him down easy.

"It's wrong," she manages to whisper, and yes, yes it is.

"Yes, absolutely. I know it's wrong. Maybe I will burn for this for a thousand years, and you know what? I still wouldn't regret it, and maybe that means I'll burn for eternity either way. I don't care. I love you, I want you, and I know," he swallows, searching for her eyes. "I know you want this too. Just let us have it once more. Come to bed with me, Regina. For whatever reason you want as long as it's something _you_ want, as long as it is _your_ choice. Do it to say goodbye — I can't picture a better way to say farewell. Be with me, please."

He watches her look him over, close her eyes, and nod slightly before taking his hand.

He pulls her close to him, but it's Regina who closes the distance between their lips and kisses him. It's passionate and heady, much more than he expected from her here on the street. He gives every bit of that emotion back in kisses of his own.

They should stop. Making out in front of his building is dangerous as many of his neighbors are colleagues. But they aren't being careful and he doesn't care if he gets caught. Really, he only cares about Regina and her feelings.

"I want to be with you," she pants, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. "Take me to bed."

This time he doubts there is a drop of alcohol left in either of their systems, though he feels intoxicated nonetheless, his mind clouded by lust, fear of the future, and perhaps a bit drunk on hope (he will blame Christmas for that).

Regina is confident and willing in his arms, and incredibly passionate in his bed.

They make love that night, they don't _fuck,_ they don't have sex, it's all so loving. Sensual and needy, desperate and giving.

She wants everything from him and isn't afraid to ask for it, to ask for his tongue, his lips, his teeth, his fingers, his cock, to ask for him to come closer, to embrace her, to be with her.

It doesn't seem to end, the moment she reaches that peak of pleasure, as soon as she careens off the edge, she's already wanting another.

And oh, how she gives him the same treatment. letting him come inside her mouth, then later, on her belly. And he doesn't think he has it in him, but as the night becomes morning, she pulls him close for another round, this time, on their sides, facing one another, her thigh wrapped against his hip as they kiss and hold one another.

She begs him to take her, begs him to go hard and fast, so he does, flips her on her back and hooks her legs over his shoulders, fucking her deep and hard while she scores her nails down his back and cries out curses of gratitude, the most sinful of moans following her promise that it's never felt like this before, and when he watches her come undone again, her skin sweat licked, her damp hair curling and disheveled, (god she's never looked more beautiful), he finds it impossible to hold back, both from coming apart himself and from whispering, "I love you," into her ear.

She doesn't run from it, in fact, she revels in that final afterglow, laying her head on his chest as they come down from nirvana, letting him tangle his hand in her curls as they steady their breathing.

"I wish this night would never end," she murmurs. "I don't want to sleep, but I'm so tired…"

"Sleep," he urges. "I love sleeping next to you."

She shuffled back off his chest and lies next to him, reading a kiss into his arm before finding a cozy position. "That doesn't sound too enjoyable."

"Everything I do with you is enjoyable," he whispers back. God, he's so exhausted and she feels so warm and safe. Sleeping is licking at his sides, threatening to pull him under.

"I feel the same," she whispers, and it's the last he hears before losing consciousness, pulled into one of the deepest, best sleep of his life.


	8. Chapter 8

When she wakes she's pressed up against him tightly, using his chest as a pillow. She can't remember how they got back into this position, it seems they just found one another in the night, no more able to stay away from each other in sleep than they can awake.

She can't help but press a kiss into his skin, then another, then another.

Guilt is gnawing at her, welling and growing, but it's not the closeness, not the kissing, that's feeding it.

It's her own poor judgment.

Everything made sense yesterday. She wanted to be with him so badly. Just one last time. It was going to be the perfect goodbye. But now she realizes she just dragged him into something horrible.

She thinks there might not be a person on this Earth as flawed and horrible as she is, at this moment.

"Love," he exhales softly. Her heart betrays her, flutters at the term of endearment until she can tamp it down.

"Hey," she says softly, her heart knocking hard in her chest. Her voice wavers and she is sure he hears it, hears that telltale hitch in her breath.

"Oh," he says, his voice laced with disappointment. "You're upset."

"I…" she swallows heavily. "I wasn't really thinking last night."

"Well, in that case, you should do a lot less thinking," he sighs, his hand rubbing through her hair.

"This is so wrong," she groans, forcing herself out of his arms and taking the sheet with her, covering herself (what's the point? He's seen every inch of her from every angle, god, the things they did last night! She's never had that much sex in one night, never in her life. That makes it even worse. "This is such a mess. And so unfair."

"I don't care how messy it is and I don't care if it's wrong. This is what I want." He holds her hand tighter, and her heart is caught in her throat, now, everything all tight and constricted.

"It's not what I want," she breathes, her heart quickening at the lie.

"It's not what you want?" He asks, his tone sounds worried and a bit incredulous, "because it sure seemed like you wanted it last night."

Oh, how right he is. She wanted it (wants it still), but that isn't what she means. Yet the words are stuck in her throat.

She hasn't left his bed and it's awkward, practically fighting while being so close to him, and while his body posture is all wrong he hasn't even moved away from her, and somehow she finds that comforting.

"God, Robin—"

"Yes, those are words I remember well from last night," he says, hurt coating his tone, she shrinks at his words, fuck no, don't let this be a fight.

"God, fuck," she sighs, putting a hand on her forehead in frustration.

"I remember those words too," he says dryly.

"Robin please—"

"Huh, we really are going through everything you said last night, aren't we?" he says dryly, "Are you sure this wasn't what you wanted when you were begging me to make you come for the fourth time?"

"Stop!" she pleads, too full of guilt to look him in the eye, and then he goes quiet for a bit, a dry chuckle escaping his throat.

"Well," he says in a husky whisper. "That is one word you _definitely_ didn't say last night." She forces herself to look at him, really look at him. He looks devastated and worried. His tone goes soft and gentle. "Or I would have, you know. I… I never would have slept with you, I'm so—"

She interrupts him before he can apologize. It's not fair he feels even an ounce of guilt for this.

"I wanted it, I wanted you. You know that. That wasn't what I meant." She sighs and thought she wants to hide her face, she finds the courage to keep eye contact. He still looks so concerned for her. He's probably guilty. He shouldn't be. She wishes she could erase every bad thought and take it from him, he doesn't deserve to feel any less than wonderful. He's not the one that keeps putting them in this situation.

"I'm not going to pretend I'm not… overwhelmingly attracted to you, or that we aren't good, um, together." Regina admits sheepishly.

"It's more than that," Robin notes, and Regina's mouth goes dry, thinking of how right he is.

She owes him the courtesy of owning it, so she nods. "It is. It is much more than that."

"Is it better with him?" He asks.

She swears her heart stops beating, that time stops, and there's only the pain in her chest and self-loathing that grows and ages until she finally finds the words.

She won't lie to him.

"No, it's not." Tears fall freely from her cheek. "But this isn't about who is better at what, it's—"

"Then what is it about, Regina? Do I make you happier than he does? If I don't then I'll… it'll feel awful, but I'll leave it, I'll accept you with him. But if I make you happier then I can't help it. I can't sit back and let this happen. Not anymore. And I know there are reasons why this is a bad idea, but I don't care if all our friends hate us, they won't, but I don't care if they do. I don't care if my family judges us, if your family judges us, I honestly don't care if we live amongst whispers for the rest of our life. You're worth it. Life with you would be worth it. This," he grabs her hand, pulls it to her lips and kisses it, "is worth it. I've lived life without you and I can confidently say that there's an awful lot I'd take as long as I also got you."

He stops then but still holds her hand. "I'm in love with you, terribly so. I don't regret any of this. I only regret I didn't ask you out sooner. I regret not breaking up with Marian the very second I felt myself pulled toward you, and damn it to hell how it would look. I stayed together with her in a relationship we both knew wasn't working and cost each other pain. And I knew I was feeling something for you I hadn't ever felt before, not this strongly. So, I want to be with you, unequivocally, as soon as possible, because nothing in the world seems worth even a few months of not being with you. But I won't pressure you. I'll do whatever you want, take whatever I can get with you, anything would be better than waiting another few years wishing I could touch you and talk to you and be with you like I wanted. I'm laying it all on the table for you, Regina. Nothing left unsaid. What do _you_ feel?"

She can't say anything except tearfully shrug. "I know what I feel like right now. And I feel selfish. I feel like you deserve better than to be with someone who treats you like this, who cheats on her fiance and hurts her best friend."

"Don't let this define you, that's not who you are. You're human, and I'm human, and we've made mistakes but we are not our mistakes. You are amazing, Regina. And I am completely and totally yours, if you would have me. I'd be proud to be with you."

She doesn't miss the solemness in his tone, the love pouring out, and it hits her hard, warmth blooming in her chest and radiating down to the pit of her stomach.

This will never end. Not any more. She'll never see him and not want him in ways that she can't have, because she's made her choice. But as long as Robin is in the picture, she won't be able to enjoy her life with Daniel. She knows it.

"I should never have—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence with "have slept with you", Regina, because you absolutely should have."

"I'm leaving," she reminds. "This was what we said it would be. This is goodbye."

"No," Robin's voice waivers. "Not goodbye. No matter what I'll still be in your life."

"You can't be in my life anymore," Regina says through tears. "I'm with Daniel. I'm going to marry Daniel. And I see you, and…" she looks at him, truly looks at him, appreciates every aspect of his beautiful face. "God, after our first night together all I want to do is kiss you and hug you and go to bed with you, I can't be your friend feeling like this. Not when I'm with Daniel."

"Then don't be with Daniel," Robin pleads. "Be with me."

Regina shakes her head. "Robin, you know—-"

"I know what this was, I didn't expect anything more. But I waited too long to tell you how I felt, I waited too long holding back and not trying everything I could to get you to stay with me and choose me, and now I don't know why I didn't just do this three years ago. I'm doing it now because I realize I was an idiot to think standing on the sidelines watching you leave was the right option. Please, Regina. I know I can make you happy, so happy. Please, don't go."

"I… I can't," she swallows. "I turned in my two weeks notice, my lease is up at the end of January, I have a ticket to leave and I've already started packing, I sold most of my furniture already, all my friends and family think I'm getting married to Daniel and—"

"These certainly are a lot of reasons, none of which are 'I love Daniel', 'I'm happier with Daniel' 'I don't want to be with you'" Robin points out.

She bites her lip considering his words. He's right, after all.

But there has to be another reason she is running from this besides the fear of disappointing and hurting everyone in her life.

So she reaches and tells a little white lie.

"Maybe if we hadn't fallen into bed while I was with him… maybe we could have someday worked. But now? If we got together, all I would feel is guilt. I wouldn't be able to get over it, I barely can look at myself in the mirror as it is."

She hurt him badly, she can tell by the expression on his face.

"So you want to never see me again?" Robin asks softly.

 _No,_ she thinks, because that's the opposite of what she wants. But it's what must be done if she wants to avoid drowning in guilt and conflicted feelings.

"I… it's too hard right now, I'm sorry, Robin."

He nods, then asks, "You're marrying him. Really?"

"I… yes, I am." The words feel wrong at this moment, but one day, with some distance, maybe some therapy, they will feel right.

"I assume you won't want me at the wedding," Robin says tightly, his eyes wet and shining in the morning sun.

"That would be for the best. I think it would be too hard for both of us."

He nods quietly and hugs her, kissing her forehead.

"I love you so much, Regina. Even when you hurt me. I will always be here if you ever want a friend. Nothing more, I know that I can't even go through all of this again. I feel too much for you. But, a friend, I will always be here if you need a friend. "

He's closing the idea of a relationship, she realizes, and her heart sinks unjustifiably. She's lucky he isn't kicking her out and spitting on her, for god's sake.

And she can never see him again, anyway.

She dresses quickly in shame and says her goodbyes, both of them crying as she leaves.

This isn't how she pictured saying goodbye. Last night it seemed like such a good ending, pumped full of endorphins and love. But this… this is awful.

She hates every step she takes away from him, but she tells herself it's for the best.

This started too badly for it to ever end well.

.::.

On Regina's last day of work, there is a surprise farewell party. Her boss of all people organized it for her, which she thinks might be touching in some way. Her friends show up in the conference room for cake and coffee as do some of her coworkers in the lab and her supervisors. Everyone that she interacts with but Robin in this small room.

"Where is he?" Mary Margaret groans. "He should be here."

"I…" she doesn't want to tell them she's in a fight with Robin, but she supposes they will figure it out anyway.

"I stopped by his office, he's really swamped," John says quickly. "He really wanted to be here, Regina."

John says it so earnestly that she believes that he has no idea what is really going on.

"It's okay," she says quickly, hiding her pain. "I don't like goodbyes anyway."

"Some well wishes for our soon-to-be Californian," Gold says, giving her a card. Some other coworkers have cards and gifts, which surprises her. Her friends, yes, but these people she doesn't see or talk to outside of work apparently care so much for her. She's really touched, truly, and she'd be able to show her appreciation more if she weren't trying so hard not to break down thinking of Robin.

That night she skips happy hour to pack, promising her friends she's going to be back in January to fix up the last of what is in her apartment, get rid of all the furniture she hasn't sold and sorted out if there are any last minute items she wants to ship. And she is still planning on getting married in town. So this isn't goodbye, not really.

She puts Daniel on speakerphone while she packs the last of her bags.

"Excited, babe?" he asks, his voice too chipper for her liking.

"Well…. it was my last day so I guess I'm a bit sad. I love that job, you know."

"Of course, and listen I am here for you through this whole transition. I know it wasn't easy to take a huge leap like this. I really appreciate it. Shows your commitment to me— to _us_ , and I couldn't be happier. And hey, we are still getting married there, right? So we'll be visiting regularly for almost year or so."

"Yeah," Regina sighs, thinking of Robin and how hard each visit would be, being so close and not able to see him.

"By the way, totally your thing but I was wondering if you wanted to pick another wedding date? Robin just called and told me he couldn't be a groomsman, apparently, he's already got plans to visit his brother that weekend. I guess you got to plan ahead a lot for international trips. Something about his brother's birthday."

Luke's birthday is in August, not October. Robin has made a polite excuse to get out of the wedding.

"No," Regina says, thankful he can't see her tears right now, "It's fine if Robin can't come. He will be missed, but we shouldn't change everything for him. Unless you really want him there?"

"Nah, I just thought you would."

She thinks of the past three years, how Daniel has basically used Robin as a spy for her, to find out gifts and things she may want or need. She needs to stop thinking about that or she'll have a panic attack.

"Daniel, how did you come up with the idea of all those happy meal toys being ornaments?" she asks. "I was just packing them up, and it seemed like such a clever idea."

"Oh, um, well…." she holds her breath and prays he confesses, prays he just is honest with her.

No such luck.

"You talked about how much you loved getting happy meals, how you would get them all the time."

 _Wrong._ As if her mother would ever let her regularly eat at McDonald's.

"And how much you loved playing with all the toys."

 _Wrong._ The few toys she got had to be hidden, so she never really got to enjoy them back then.

"I guess I just had the idea, and thought "well, why not make them a bit more, like into ornaments I could display? I don't know, babe, it was years ago."

She plays with her phone, looking at that flight information for tomorrow.

 _Too late,_ cries that voice. _It's too late._

But is it?

"Daniel," she directs, her voice shaky and scared, "you have to do something for me. You have to tell me something right now. Just something about why you fell in love with me. Or why you still love me. I really need to hear something good from you right now."

"Okay, babe. Let me see…" There's a deafening pause, and she swears she's about to scream when he fills the silence. "You're beautiful, not just pretty like you think. But beautiful like a model, if models were five-foot-two." Regina laughs despite herself. "I'm serious, Regina, you are. And maybe I don't tell you that enough. And you're very kind. And so supportive of me and really all your friends. And I love that you push yourself, that you are always growing, or trying to. I love that I can take you to any cocktail party and you have intimate knowledge about practically any subject that comes up. I love you, Regina Mills."

"I love you too," Regina says, her heart racing, both fear and relief flooding over her. There's enough between them to work on it. They can get there. Once she gets to LA they may need to see a counselor but… it's not worth giving up yet.

She can do this.

.::.

She means to go to the airport by herself. She tells everyone she will just catch an uber there because saying goodbye is too hard.

But she's unable to avoid goodbyes, it seems. Her friends are there waiting for her right in front of the checked baggage line. Mary Margaret, David, Mulan, and John anyway.

Mary Margaret is a wreck. They've been together at this company since the beginning, sharing their first day, along with Robin. They toured the complex in the same orientation group, though Mary Margaret was fresh out of college and Regina had her Ph.D. In a way, she had looked at her as a little sister, laughed at her silly, girly antics, but she loves her, really, so much.

"I really wish you didn't have to go," Mary Margaret cries, and this is so unexpected, she was so positive about the move before.

"I'll be back in January," Regina says, trying not to cry. "You have my car, after all." Mary Margaret laughs. "And after that, we will be back all the time. The wedding, you know?"

"Yeah…that maybe you'll let me help you plan a little?" Mary Margaret asks, her eyes still wet with tears.

"Of course," Regina says. "I think I'll need a ton of your help."

"Not that you didn't do a good job without me, I mean you had Robin, which I was skeptical, but he does always have good ideas."

"He does," Regina says, swallowing hard.

"Daniel always says that about Robin too," David laughs nervously. "I think that's why he picked Robin to oversee the wedding plans instead of me."

Regina's cheeks heat. She had been wondering about this since it was hinted at weeks ago but hadn't had the heart to ask more. "What do you mean 'picked Robin to oversee the wedding'?"

"Yeah," John says, looking a bit confused as if she doesn't know. "He didn't tell you? He just asked Robin to make sure the wedding wasn't entirely too feminine. So there was something for him. Though your taste isn't as… princess-y," he shoots Mary Margaret a smirk, "as some _others."_

"Weddings are supposed to make you feel like a princess," Mary Margaret scowls. "And Regina, I'm sure Daniel just wanted this day to be as special as possible which is why he picked Robin to help. You know how Daniel is with these events. He likes to plan."

Mary Margaret really has a way of intending to calm her down and just making it worse.

Regina thinks back to Daniel promising her the wedding of her dreams, that he would trust her no matter what she planned, that it was all up to her.

And then he had employed Robin to make sure it was all going well.

Bastard.

As if he were ever to trust her or let her plan _anything._ Even one day of their lives.

She's done something terribly dishonest to him and she can't really talk about honesty and trust right now, but it appears lying to her comes second nature to Daniel.

"I…"

"Ugh, I wish Robin were here," Mary Margaret sigh. "He got food poisoning. He was going to try so hard to be here, Regina."

"No, it's okay. I didn't want anyone here anyway, no offense to you guys. I'm glad you came, but you are making this really hard on me."

The joke breaks some the tension, nervous laughter filling the air.

"I'm sure if Robin were here you'd probably miss your flight trying to say goodbye," Mulan teases, and Regina laughs, and finally lets herself cry.

If Robin were here, she probably wouldn't be getting on that flight. Not after this newest revelation.

When they hug goodbye, David leans in tight and whispers to her, "We just wrote you a little goodbye card. You can read it whenever." He slips it into her coat pocket and she nods and hugs him tighter.

She feels like she is a zombie until she finally boards the plane and realizes she's on the verge of a panic attack.

She grabs at her secret stash of candy and bottle of water, urges depression to lift its vice grip from her heart.

That's when she remembers the card David gave her.

Maybe reading it will calm her down, make her think of other, happier times.

Maybe.

She fishes it out of her coat pocket and takes a deep breath.

There are two cards in there, though. One is from David and Mary Margaret, wishing her all the best on her trip. A long, extended penning from Mary Margaret urges her to commit to more frequent texts and to suck it up and use facetime. Regina can't help but laugh at the firm tone the letter has taken.

The other card, the card David clearly didn't tell her about for a reason, is from Robin.

She knows the second she opens the envelope and sees the word "chemis-tree" with a tree decorated with laboratory equipment. Her eyes water, tears flow free. God, Robin loves his puns, the cornier the better.

She opens the card and holds her breath. Inside, there are several pieces of loose leaf in his slightly messy scribble.

 _To my dearest Regina,_

 _I know you did not want to hear from me ever again, but I can't resist one last opportunity to end what has been, hands down, the best relationship of my life on somewhat of a positive note. I never got a chance to tell you what you meant to me, what the years of friendship meant, and to thank you for everything. I wanted you to know that there's never been anyone who has made me feel the way you do. You're so warm at times, so no-nonsense at others, but you always gave me your full attention on anything I ever said. You deserve to know all the reasons why my life is better and will forever be more complete because I met you._

 _Of course, there's the information you constantly give me on practically any subject. You know so much about science, politics, social graces, traditions… you're an endless fountain of knowledge, the first person I'd come to with a question. You're incredibly humble too, and I find that infuriating at times, how you don't know how truly brilliant you are. But at other times, I find it endearing that somehow a woman so gifted isn't the least bit full of herself. You taught me so much about chemistry and so many other subjects, and for that, I thank you._

 _You also appreciate art and theatre, opened my world to a culture I hadn't truly seen before you shared your interest. You introduced me to good food, not expensive food, but **good** food, how to cook it and where to find it. I won't ever look at a farm-to-table restaurant without thinking of you, nor will I be able to avoid thinking of you every time I make the pasta sauce you taught me._

 _I dress better because of you, a skill I fancied myself quite apt at before, but the tailor you set me up with has changed my life for the better. And those slim ties did look quite comical, didn't they?_

 _You taught me how to care for a woman. I didn't know how before you, not really. I should have, Lord knows I was old enough and had enough female presence in my life. But I didn't know how to be a real friend, how to listen or comfort. You were gentle with me. You were honest, when I said something insensitive, you told me. If I hurt you, you let me know and told me how to fix it._

 _You taught me how to be a better man. I sought treatment for anger issues because of you. Remember that one night when I got into that fight with Killian and you pulled me aside and begged me to calm down? You told me about your mother and her anger and outbursts and told me I couldn't let the emotion control me. You had this way of gently pushing me in the right direction in so many ways._

 _When you met me, I hadn't fully dealt with my father's death. You taught me that it is okay to be weak, it's alright for a man to be vulnerable. Now I think of my father and see the joy through the pain — I even feel the pain so much less now, and I truly believe you are the reason._

 _I'm less selfish because of you, and far more open-minded. I always think, in any difficult situation, what would you do? What would my beautiful and talented best friend do?_

 _It's a question I will continue to ask myself for the rest of my life, whether you ever are in it again or not._

 _I love you, For every single wonderful, beautiful aspect that makes you "you". I'll never forget you, and I truly believe all the good that I am or will be in the future will be thanks in some part to you._

 _Thank you for all you have given me, my dear friend. I will cherish every memory and every lesson and hold them close to my heart forever._

 _Love Always,_

 _Robin_

She's crying into the note, the tears falling on this precious piece of paper as the flight attendants prepare for takeoff, but she pays them no mind. She reads the letter over and over as they fly into the air as if she's not quite sure it's real.

Every time she rereads she expects to realize she's made part of it up, because this can't exist, it can't be real. She never knew she had any influence on him at all, or anyone, really.

He was always the one who kept her together these years, wasn't he?

He was always there for her, always the first person she came to, always the person she confided in, the one she talked to about issues that concerned her. He was that person for her, she wasn't that person for him.

She thinks of Daniel, of everything they are, of everything they've been for the past three years, of what he was for her, and a sense of calm washes over her for the first time since he proposed. This is okay. This is right.

Robin helped her one last time with something so important she can't begin to thank him.

She spends the rest of the flight breathing easy, watching movies, and preparing for her new life.


	9. Chapter 9

Daniel is waiting for her at the baggage claim with a cheesy grin and flowers. It's sweet, really, it is. They aren't her favorite flowers and aren't even a color she likes, which is just a perfect symbol of their relationship, isn't it?

"Hey babe," he says, leaning in to kiss her.

She turns so he catches her on the cheek.

"Daniel," she says, shocked by how confident her voice is. "I think we need to talk."

He raises an eyebrow. "Of course, let's go home."

It's not easy. It's awkward is what it is, but Regina owed him a face-to-face discussion.

When they get to Daniel's modern looking apartment, she heads to the couch and sits down.

"Did something happen?" He asks, and he looks nervous and scared for perhaps the first time ever.

"I've been away from you for three months, Daniel. Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did!" Daniel exclaims, "I…. is this about me not calling enough? Because—"

"No. It's about us not knowing one another well enough to miss one another. I know you didn't buy me all those thoughtful gifts I thought you did. I was upset until I realized I was an idiot to ever think you got them. You never made an effort to get to know you, and I was never open enough with you to show you who I really am. And that's not your fault, Daniel. But I can't do this. I can't marry you."

He looks shocked, brow furrowed.

"But you moved here," he reminds. "You packed up your entire life, you quit your job!"

"Daniel, I just told you I'm not going to marry you and you're talking about logistics. What does that say about the state of our relationship?"

"This is crazy, Regina, you just have a bit of nerves, you—"

"No," she says, a slight smile spreading over her lips. "this is the calmest I've been since you proposed. I know this is the right decision."

"This is crazy," Daniel repeats, sitting down on the couch, looking a bit dazed.

Yet there's not even a hint of a tear in his eye. And she thinks that yes, this will be hard, but she's had worst conversations by far.

This won't be as difficult as saying goodbye to Robin was for her. Not at all.

.::.

It is warm and sunny in Los Angeles, but in New Jersey, it's snowing.

She knows about the weather because Mary Margaret has already called to give her an update, and to ask how Daniel is. Regina hasn't told her about the breakup — she won't, not right away.

She knows who she has to talk to first.

"Well you know, it's John's birthday, and he wanted to go to that unlimited drink and food place? But I guess Robin wasn't feeling any better, because he only showed up for about a half hour before telling us he had to go. And he's been ignoring our texts. I'm actually worried about him."

"I hope it's nothing serious," Regina mutters softly.

"I think he misses you. We all do."

"No, it is probably the holiday blues. He wouldn't mope around and isolate himself just for me," Regina says, knowing it's a lie.

"Regina," Mary Margaret sighs. "Come on, we all know how much you matter to him."

"When is his flight to Montana?" Regina asks, scared the conversation may get too real if they head down the path of Robin missing her

"Supposed to be tomorrow around one PM or something. But with the snow, who knows? John is worried they might be stuck here. I told them they are all welcome at my house."

"Right, thanks for the update."

"How are things with Daniel?" Mary Margaret asks, "How's California?"

"I… I have to go, I'm sorry. I'll tell you all about it later."

The snow proves difficult. Even with enough airline miles for what should be a round-trip ticket, with the snow and the cancellations and last minute flight change, a one-way ticket home is difficult.

"It is just a little storm tonight, little bit enough to cancel a few flights. But tomorrow night is supposed to be a doozy. Will probably shut down everything from Philadelphia to Boston," an attendant tells her. "So if you can't get a flight tonight I can't say you'll find anything before Christmas. I'm so sorry, are you trying to get home to see your family for the holidays?"

"Yes," Regina croaks, because he is her family and has always been. "I just miss them so much. And I'm running out of time."

"Oh, sweetheart," the attendant says, sympathy pouring over the phone, the typing becoming loud in the background, "let me see what I can do."

She misunderstood of course, Regina realizes that. The poor woman thinks Regina is seeing a dying relative. She should correct her, but, well…

This is a bit of an emergency.

She winds up with a ticket to Baltimore and a train ticket to New Jersey. it's not the definition of fun, dragging around two large suitcases and a carry-on, but she's nothing short of grateful, because she's going to make it right before Robin leaves for Montana. Hopefully, she can catch him and plead her case.

It's 10 AM when she gets to the train station and she's not sure where he will be, perhaps waiting at the airport trying to get an earlier flight before that second storm...

She calls him, but his phone is off or (worse) he has blocked her number.

Before she can think too hard about that, her phone rings, John's welcoming face popping up on the screen.

John doesn't ever call her just to talk, so her heart races as she answers the phone.

"Hey, John. Is everything okay?"

"Hey, Regina…" He sounds really awkward and uncomfortable. "I'm sorry I know it's really early over there. I was wondering if you had heard from Robin recently?"

"No," she admits. "Why, is something wrong?"

"Not really," John says quickly. "We have a flight later today but there's a storm headed this way. We weren't supposed to meet for another two hours, but you know, with the snow… I just thought we should leave early. But his phone is shut off and he's not at home. Thought maybe you'd know where he is."

She looks out at the weather, and it's not really too bad, at this moment, it's barely snowing, just a slight dust dry powder in the air. There are several inches on the ground from last night's storm, of course. The trees are covered in it, frozen branches shining in the sunlight, snow blanketing the small patches of the grass she can see.

Would be even more pretty if she weren't in the middle of the city with its traffic everywhere.

And then she just knows.

"Sit tight, John," she says, hanging up quickly.

As she's in her taxi, she calls Mary Margaret to ask what the woman will no doubt feel is a rather strange question.

"Hey, are you home?" she asks, fishing out her spare keys.

"No, David and I are doing some last minute shopping, why?"

"You left my car in your driveway, right?" Regina asks.

"Uh…. yes? Why?"

"No reason, tell David I said hi."

She begs her driver to stop and wait for her, tossing her luggage into the car, packing it high with luggage that was supposed to last her months in California.

The driver should seem surprised, but she guesses he's seen stranger things than a woman putting all nearly all possessions into a snow-covered car.

When she sits back into the car he only shrugs and asks, "Where to next?"

.::.

It's not snowing anymore, and Robin supposes that is a good thing. He's supposed to be at the airport in a bit, and things look good for this flight to Helena.

Or… they would, if it was not snowing there, too.

But he's not going to worry about it right now. His boots are covered in crisp snow, there's that smell of winter in the air, and everything is so soft and still and beautiful out here right now.

His dad would have loved this park. Would have preferred they go into the wooded hiking trails, but Robin always liked being near the water during winter. Frozen water is so beautiful.

Regina loves it, too. One year they went ice skating in Bryant Park. She's not a person he'd take for any sporting activity, but if an activity involves Christmas, all bets are off.

Fuck, he misses Regina so much. He can't get her out of his head for even a moment. She only left two days ago, but he hasn't talked to her since their last night together, a little over two weeks ago. It's by far the longest he's ever gone without seeing her or at least texting her, and he feels so immeasurably lonely and lost. It's so unnatural to lose someone who means so much to you this way. Regina is alive and well a few thousand miles away, hopefully happy, hopefully adjusting to California life, but he doesn't get to know her anymore. He will hear her mentioned offhand by Mary Margaret or Mulan, maybe, but that will be it. He most likely will never see her again, just the _finality_ of that makes him sick to his stomach.

He wishes his dad were still here. Robin's father always had decent advice when it came to interacting with people, he could read them well, figure out what they really were thinking. He was a simple man, but a good one. And Robin just knows his father would have had the perfect thing to say to Regina to get her to stay.

No crazy romantic gesture, no elaborate presents, no big speech.

His dad would just say something, soft and sweet, some magical sentence, and it would fix everything.

"What do I do now, dad?" Robin asks softly into the wind. He prays for an answer, a little early Christmas magic, that maybe his dad can whisper the answer to him, a few precious words that will fix everything.

But it's not Christmas, his father is dead, and magic isn't real anyway, so his question is doomed to be unanswered like all the others he's asked over the years.

He should really get going. He has a flight to catch.

Still, he walks on. There is something oddly peaceful out here. And despite having no answers, he isn't ready to leave quite yet.

So he loops around the lake once more. He takes in the entire scene, untouched snow covering the grass, sparkling as rays of sunshine peak through the clouds. The sky is crystal blue. If it weren't for the snow and you saw this scene, you'd swear it was a beautiful summer day out.

It's not, of course, it's bitter cold. His cheeks and ears are beginning to sting a bit from it, but it doesn't hurt as badly as the ache in his heart, so it's okay, really. He can live with it for a bit longer. The pain is distracting, anyway.

He catches the sight of something moving out of the corner of his eye and turns just in time to see a few deer running by, kicking up snow as they gallop away.

It's beautiful here.

If he weren't so heartbroken he would be able to appreciate the beauty even more.

He looks off into the horizon and for a moment, trying to get himself to appreciate things, to see things the way his father would. He gets lost in thought trying, thinking of these walks with his father when he was younger, how they would say nothing at all for hours and yet he'd never feel closer to his dad then in those moments.

"I knew I'd find you here."

At first, he thinks he must be hallucinating her voice. He's actually worried, too afraid to turn around to see for sure whether he's going crazy or not.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your walk."

He turns around then, and thank god, she's her, and holy hell, how beautiful she is, it almost hurts to look at her, looking like this and not just taking in his arms is killing her.

Her hair is around her face in loose waves, that black coat of her pulled tight, a little blue scarf covering herself from the cold. She looks absolutely stunning, fresh and natural.

God, he loves her.

"Regina?" he asks, and through all the confusion, and all the sadness, he can't help but smile. "You're here?" How?"

"I had to use those airline miles a bit earlier than I had intended," she says softly, and all he can think is he's missed the sound of her voice so much it's pathetic.

He has a thousand questions to ask, but his body moves to wrap around hers as if by instinct. Thank fuck, she hugs him back tightly.

"I… I don't understand." Robin pulls back out of the hug just to make sure it's really her. His vision is cloudy now, eyes watery, fuck it, he won't cry. "You said you never wanted to see me again, I—"

"And that was a terrible mistake. Those were the hardest two weeks of my life, Robin. It was like denying myself oxygen."

Part of him wants to make a chemistry joke, but he's not sure his voice works all that well right now, and he's not sure he could bear to ruin this moment.

She presses on. "You'd think I would have known then, when every moment away from you was painful but…"

Tears are falling down her cheek, and she falls silent for a few moments, before taking a breath, "I'm so sorry, I just missed you so much. I don't think I've gone this long without seeing you."

He can't help but smile now, and grab at her hand, his heart knocking hard as he feels her fingers move to lace in his. They are cold, but they are hers, and they are real.

"I missed you too, you have no idea how much."

She really came back to see him.

"I was on the plane and I read your letter, and…"

Shit, that letter. He didn't want to give it to her, but he thought if he didn't send it, didn't give himself some sort of closure, he might never be over her. In the end, he asked John to slip it in her pocket, but he wasn't sure she'd even read it.

"The whole time I thought the reason I was so upset to move to California was that I loved it here, that it is home, that I'm scared of moving away to what is different and new. I thought I was mad at Daniel for putting me in this position, and let's face it, I deserved to be. He shouldn't have asked me that, sure. But I realized if you moved to California I wouldn't second think it. After two weeks apart from you I'd be on a plane to Antarctica excited to start a new life. I'd move anywhere you went, I wouldn't care if you told me last minute, Robin," Fresh tears well up and fall, and she sobs a bit, he places a hand on her cheek as comfort, an unspoken understanding that she should continue what she's saying, because he needs to hear it. He needs to be sure. "You're home to me, you're the only one that is home to me, and it's been awful without you, and I am so, so sorry it took me this long to realize it."

"You… are you—"

"I broke up with Daniel," Regina says bluntly. He searches her face for pain, some sort of regret, but she's only smiling through her tears. "I don't know what you want, maybe you don't want to see me anymore, you probably shouldn't, not after the way I handled this, I—"

"Of course I want to see you," he swallows, his voice thick, "I always want to see you, Regina."

She lets out this sound, this stifled, choking sob that breaks his heart into a million pieces, she won't cry anymore, he won't ever give her reason to cry again.

"I was so worried about that," she breathes, and he squeezes her hands tight.

"Regina, I would never not want to see you." He needs her to know this, even if this is some sort of fake out she learned from Daniel, even if this conversation leads in her leaving him again, off on some new adventure.

"I love you," she blurts out, tears still streaming down her face, and Robin thinks he might be crying too, tears of relief, or disbelief, or something, his heart cracking wide open, never feeling more raw and vulnerable at this moment. "I'm in love with you. Like nothing I've ever felt before, and it is strong, and wonderful, though sometimes it is painful and _awful,_ but I don't ever want to stop loving you, stop appreciating every part of you. I love you. I'm so sorry I didn't say it before."

He's had about as much as he can take, so he pulls her into his arms, still dizzy and confused with the sudden turn of events.

And then he draws back, and cups her chin and tilts her head up, his thumb swipes over her bottom lip. She looks entranced, and he still feels a bit hypnotized himself. And then he brings his lips to hers and soaks in the feel of her.

They've kissed many times now, and he's appreciated every last kiss they have shared. The soft, and sweet, the frantic and desperate, the passionate and lustful.

This kiss is all at once, somehow. It's tender and measured, then heats, becomes more, and Christ in Heaven how he's missed her, really missed her, every part of her.

"I love you too, Regina." He says softly. But he has to be sure, he can't go through something as awful as the last two weeks, if she pulls away from him again, it would be too difficult to get over again. "I only want to do this if you are all in. These last few weeks have been so hard, I've felt so lost without you, and if you aren't sure, I could at least just take your friendship—"

"I am completely and totally yours, if you'll have me," she says, echoing his words from weeks earlier, and Robin cannot help but laugh.

"I'll have you, of course I will," He laughs, and this still doesn't seem real. "I… I'm sorry I'm a little stunned. I was just thinking about you and…"

There's no magic or miracles in this life. But this, he thinks, this is as close as it gets.

"I was just trying to think about how I was supposed to make it through the holidays when I'm this miserable," Robin chuckles, tears stinging his cheeks.

"You have a plane to catch," Regina smiles, pressing a kiss to his lips. "But don't worry. I'll be here when you get back."

Robin laughs and shakes his head. "Fuck Montana. I'm spending Christmas at home this year."

And in case there is any doubt as to what he means, he kisses her again. He lets his hands tangle in her hair, lets his fingers scratch at the back of her scalp. She shivers, and it's only then he remembers that it is freezing out. He tugs at her hands, pulling her in the direction of his car.

"Let's get you some place warm. I wouldn't want to lose you to frostbite after all of this."

He calls John from the car, all apologetic about having to miss out on Christmas.

"Regina's here," he explains. "I hate to cancel but I really want to spend the holidays with her."

"You won't miss out; the storm is terrible in Montana. Our flight was canceled. Mary and David already invited us over to her family's mansion for Christmas. Apparently there is a pretty elaborate party. I don't know, could be fun. I'm sure she'd love to have you and Regina. And um, Daniel, if Daniel is there, I guess…"

He's trying very hard not to ask too many questions, clearly knowing there's something dramatic going on in the background.

Regina just laughs. She seems she doesn't have a care in the world about what people might think.

.::.

Her life is a mess, and she couldn't be happier about it. She's very soon-to-be-homeless (her lease is up at the end of January), jobless, and has absolutely no idea what the future holds.

Except she's pretty sure it holds Robin, and that's all she needs, it turns out.

She hasn't stopped smiling since he kissed her and she's not sure she ever will again. He's driving her somewhere — she has absolutely no idea where they are going but she _hopes_ to god it's his apartment.

This may be the only time she will be happy to enter that place.

And that reminds her of why she started hating it in the first place.

"I was jealous of Sabine," she says, because being entirely honest is contagious and all her feelings are spilling out. "and all the other women I saw you with."

"Really?" Robin laughs incredulously. "There was never anything serious. I guess Sabine was a bit more… but she told me right off the bat she wasn't looking to settle down. That's why it lasted so long, in retrospect."

"I liked her a lot, but I was jealous of her," Regina laughs. "Should have been with you years ago."

"Maybe, or maybe all the waiting we did will make our time together even better."

Her phone buzzes then, and it's Mary Margaret, and boy, this will be fun. She flashes Robin a coy smile and puts it on speakerphone.

"Hey, Mary."

"Don't you dare just _hey Mary_ me!" Mary Margaret scolds. "David and I just got back from shopping and what do I see but your car full of luggage without so much as a word! Regina at first I thought a hobo had set up camp in there!" Regina has to cover her mouth to keep from laughing and Robin is shaking with laughter "And since when do you just come home without telling me? Are we not best friends? Where are you? Are you okay? I don't know even who you are right now I—"

"I swear I'm fine," Regina laughs.

"Where are you?"

"I'm—"

"You know what, I don't care where you are. You better come over here _right now_ before I come to get you myself!"

She trades a look with Robin, and he shrugs and nods.

"I'll be right over."

Her heart is racing. She's going to tell her, here and now. And she made peace with the world judging her and knowing that she has cheated on her fiancé, but Mary Margaret is a different story.

Regina loves her, and she will hate to see the girl disappointed in her.

Still, she won't hide from this. She will own her sins, all of them.

God, let Mary Margaret forgive her in time, let her find a way to make it up to her.

Robin can sense her mood, she knows it from the way he reaches to squeeze at her leg.

He pulls into Mary and David's driveway, and Mary Margaret is out the door before Regina can even unbuckle her seatbelt.

Shit.

She takes a deep breath and opens the door.

"Mary Margaret, I am so sorry I didn't tell you. It was a last minute decision, it was just a mess, I'm—"

But her friend doesn't look upset. She throws her arms around Regina instead, hugging her tight.

"What happened?" she asks when she breaks the hug. And then she eyes Robin suspiciously, and the color drains from Mary Margaret's face.

Shit.

Shitshitshit.

"Are you two together?"

Regina doesn't even know how to answer that question.

But she can answer another.

"I broke up with Daniel. Because I realized that I'm in love with Robin. And I know—"

"Oh my god!" Mary Margaret slaps a hand over her mouth. "That's so great for you!"

Regina isn't even sure if she's on the same planet. Mary Margaret has been hurt terribly by her father's affairs, she expected she'd see her and just another Leopold Blanchard in disguise. Yet here she is, throwing her arms around Regina as if this is some wonderful celebration instead of a confession of, well, she's at least confessed to an emotional affair.

"You really think this is great?"

"I've been trying _so hard_ to get you to realize it! I mean, Regina, Daniel wasn't for you. He never treated you as well as Robin, we all saw it, even David saw it and he is so oblivious to everything."

"Hey," calls David in a weak, unsure voice.

Regina looks at him, scratching his neck sheepishly a few feet behind his soon-to-be-bride.

"I only object to the part about me being oblivious."

Mary Margaret smiles and continues. "I knew if I told you I didn't see you together you could write me out of your life entirely or try to prove me wrong. You are so stubborn, I know you. So I kept trying to give you a little push in the right direction." And then she swaps Regina hard on the shoulder. "You always reacted the right way but did nothing about it! It was so frustrating."

"All those 'Oh, Daniel is so wonderful' comments were you trying to push Regina in the opposite direction?" Robin asks. He's now out of the car, looking perplexed and remorseful himself.

"I didn't say that Daniel was wonderful. I said specific things that clearly weren't true to get Regina to think about whether she really should be in that relationship. And made specific suggestions that would maybe get her to rethink things."

Regina thinks back to Mary Margaret excitedly telling her Daniel must be worth all this inconvenience, to her bragging about how Daniel employed Robin to supervise the wedding planning, or how Regina should picture being in California with Daniel each and every time she was feeling sad about leaving. The ridiculous wedding plans — Mary Margaret knew her better than that, they were all things designed to make her more uncomfortable, weren't they? And the idea to wed in New Jersey… How she paired them up on Thanksgiving and demanded that Robin take her home. Fuck, Regina needs to give Mary Margaret more credit. She's really quite clever.

"You hated Robin being involved with the wedding planning," Regina murmurs.

"Well, he'd just make the whole thing easier for you even though he was in love with you." Mary Margaret explained. "And I thought that would be hard on him."

"How did you…" Robin asks, then stops. "Was I that obvious?"

"I'm just very perceptive," Mary Margaret grins. "Okay, I'm sure you two have a lot of _catching up_ to do," she giggles. "Go on, you can get your stuff later."

"I love you," Regina says, tears forming. "Thank you for everything."

"Thank you for staying," Mary Margaret smiles. "and I love you, too."

She grabs her carryon bag anyway, because, well, gets into the car and exchanges a look with Robin before they burst into laughter.

"That couldn't have gone any better," Robin muses.

"I know the rest of the world might hate me for this, but," she smiles and grabs his hand. "I have you, Mary Margaret, and David. That's what's important."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Just a little epilogue. Merry Christmas! I knew this story wasn't for everyone, but for those who enjoyed, thanks for reading!**

* * *

"Those don't look like snow boots," Robin notes as they park in his car.

"They aren't," she says, staring down at her heels. "My feet are soaked. Though I can't say I mind at all right now."

"Well, I mind," Robin says, as they walk into his building. "You look cold. But I'm going to get you nice and warm "

"Good," Regina smiles.

She feels a bit awkward around Robin. She's hurt him terribly and she has no idea if he's ready to start a relationship. If that is what he wants _right now_.

She's _definitely_ ready for everything with him, and would gladly talk it through, give him all the assurances he needs (or everything physical to renew their connection — she wants that too). But she's just been traveling and she's so emotionally exhausted she might most like to have a nap with him and cling to him tightly for hours on end. But his feelings are important. She is going to let him lead.

And they need to talk more.

This is going to work, she's ever more confident about that, but she doesn't want to screw anything up.

"My apartment is a mess," he sighs as they walk into the elevator. "And unlike other times I've said this, it really _is_ a mess."

"I don't mind," she assures.

When they get to his apartment, he really wasn't lying.

Dirty dishes are in and near the sink. There's half empty takeout containers on the coffee table, several glasses sitting with various liquids in them, a bottle of beer on the side table, a messy pile of clothes he runs to throw in a hamper when he gets in. A blanket that's always neatly folded is laying across the couch, and it seems he's been using a throw pillow to rest on.

"I kind of fell apart when you said you never wanted to see me again," he says softly. "It's pathetic, I know."

"It's not pathetic," Regina insists. "I was a mess too."

"I…" he sighs and takes off his boots and jacket, helping her with her own. "I know we weren't ever together, but I lost my best friend. I thought I lost you forever. And I felt so guilty that I begged you to sleep with me."

"You didn't beg; you asked." Regina smiles. "I wanted you more than I could say out loud. You didn't have to try so hard. I was already going to come up with you."

He nods, and she sees it then, the guilt in his eyes, his slouched posture.

She hugs him.

"The only one who needs to apologize is me. We had that amazing night and then I let my guilt talk me into running when I knew how I felt."

He shakes his head. "I never wanted to push you, and I pushed you that night. And let's face it, you weren't cheating on Daniel our first time together. But that second time, I talked you into it."

She presses a kiss to his lips and says, "No, you didn't. And we were having at least an emotional affair long before I realized it — at least, I had been having one. The physical part was just confirmation." She walks toward the cluttered coffee table and begins picking up plates and glasses off of them.

"You don't have to do that," he mutters.

"Let me just do this, please," she asks. She needs to fix this, needs to clean up a bit, because this is part of the mess she created.

He nods and helps her, gathering dishes and emptying bottles of soda and beer down the drain, before running off to the bedroom to, no doubt, clean up in there.

She clears her throat when he returns, clarifying, "Nothing that happened was your fault, you know. I knew I had to stop seeing you if I wanted to get married. I probably would have made that decision if we hadn't slept together. I wanted you too badly, and I loved you too much. I think that much is obvious. But… chances of us not sleeping together before I left were low. I love you, I love being with you, and apparently, I also have poor impulse control."

Robin chuckles. "You said that the guilt of everything would ruin your chance to be happy—"

"I lied," she admits with a sad smile. "I do feel guilty, but I also love you more than I care to punish myself over this. And I truly know this was the best decision." She swallows hard, voicing what has been in the back of her mind for months. "Even if you and I had never gotten together, Daniel and I would not have lasted. We are different people. It worked when I was here with all of you, but even then, not fully. He made me feel… inadequate. Unintentionally of course. He just made clear what he wanted and I knew I wasn't quite that. I just wanted to measure up to expectations that he had. And really I was trying to fit myself into a spot marked 'Daniel's perfect partner', but it wasn't me. And I never really belonged there. I clung to the fact he'd get me all these thoughtful presents so he must know me deep down inside and be perfect for me. I felt so foolish when I realized that those gifts were a huge reason why I thought we worked. I didn't want to admit how stupid I had been, because yes, putting that much stake in them was absurd."

"Fuck," Robin groans. He's wiping off the crumbs that are on the coffee table now as she scrubs a pot that it seems mac and cheese was made in. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about this years ago."

"Things happen for a reason," she waves off. "I don't want to think about what if. I just want to make sure that we are good now."

"We are," he says. "Now come here, let me hold you for a bit, you starved me of yourself for weeks."

She smiles and lets him lead her to the couch.

He smells like snow and pine and just a hint of something deep and earthy that she wants to wrap herself into.

"I missed you," he whispers again.

"I missed you too. I love you."

"I won't soon tire of hearing that," he whispers back.

He tugs at her arm, urging her to straddle his lap.

"You are so beautiful," he says, his hand stroking her cheek softly.

"So are you," she smiles, dipping down to kiss him.

"In a manly way, right?" he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

"Very manly." She strokes his scruff and presses a kiss to his lips.

They trade kisses like that, soft and slow, for awhile.

"Did you eat yet, love?"

"No," she smiles. "I rushed right over to you the second I arrived."

"Right," he smirks. "Because you love me."

"I do, very much."

He still reacts like it's the first time he's heard those words, still smiles in this shocked, happy sort of way that makes her heart turn to warm honey.

He strokes her leg, bringing his own flush with her, and then frowns.

"Why don't you get into a pair of my pajamas? Those jeans are wet from the snow. That can't be comfortable."

Her feet are cold, socks wet, but she doesn't feel anything short of amazing.

"I brought my carry on bag and it has some of my clothes in there, I don't want to put you out, I could find something else—"

"But I like the way you look in my clothes," Robin admits shyly.

"Good, those flannel pants were so soft and comfortable, I almost stole them after our first night together." She giggles, as does he.

He gives her that and an old charity tee shirt that says "5K Fun Run 2008" on it.

So at some point when Robin was in college he rabs... or at least participated in races. She wants to know the story of why he kept the tee shirt, of the run itself, if he used to do lots of these, and why he doesn't do them anymore.

As well as she knows him there's still so much to uncover. And she can't wait.

She looks down at the comfortable pants and glances up at him. She could run off to the bathroom to change, but Robin has seen everything, and it seems unnecessary.

So she strips off her jeans and then her sweater and the shirt underneath it, leaving her in a black bra and panties.

She looks up and finds Robin staring at her as if he wanted to devour her.

Good.

Before she can put on the pajamas she throws her arms around him and gives him a kiss.

"I don't want you to think this is all about looks," he murmurs. "It's not. I love you for so many other reasons than what you are currently doing to my libido. But you are. Doing those things to my libido. Even though that isn't all this is."

She laughs.

"We were friends for years before everything else. I know that."

"While we were friends I still was lusting after you after you quite a bit," he reminds.

She lips curve up. "Really?"

He laughs. "I don't think you want to know details. You'll think I'm a pervert."

"Maybe I'll be flattered by your perversion."

"I'm going to my grave with some of the things I've imagined," Robin warns.

She raises a brow and flashes him a skeptical smile.

"I think you might think I'm more of a prude than I actually am. You'll tell me all your fantasies in time."

Robin seems to rise to the challenge, cupping her ass and squeezing it while he pulls her in close. "The first time I jerked off thinking about you was the night after we first met. That's a _lot_ of fantasies to catch you up on."

She laughs and crinkles her nose. "What did I do that was so sexy that first day?"

"Existed," he shrugs, giving her a quick peck. "Go on, put some clothes on before I have another fantasy."

"We could…" she finishes her sentence with a kiss, one that heats and suggests what she doesn't want to put into words.

"We could, and I want to, badly," he says, jutting his hips into her as proof. "But you just broke up with him, you just had a long flight and train ride, and you're tired and hungry right now. Plus, I'd never regret what we had, or our nights together but I think I should woo you this time."

"I don't need to be wooed," Regina objects.

"Maybe not. But you need a good meal and good sleep more than you need a good lay." He gives her a peck and watches as she puts on his pajamas.

Well, he _is_ right on that.

And he wants her and loves her so she doesn't have to worry about what waiting will mean.

He orders her soup and a fajita wrap from Granny's, he gets himself a Monte Cristo sandwich with plenty of fries.

And when they have finished eating, he brings her in close, rubbing her back as he asks, "So, when are you going to call Gold and get your job back?"

Regina laughs. "I can't do that," she sighs. "God, what a disaster. I have no job. Soon to be no apartment. And almost no furniture. I have a boxspring and mattress, a coffee table and end tables, and one chest of drawers. Thank god I couldn't sell my car before I left."

"Gold said you could come home whenever you wanted, didn't he?" Robin asks.

He did say that. But…. well, Regina is embarrassed. Her last day was just a few days ago.

"I don't think he meant it," she says simply. "I was thinking I'd look to see about getting a job at Tremaine-Heart."

"It's worth a shot, though," Robin urges. "What about sending just one email?"

She does, holding her breath, then sighs and leans back into him after hitting send.

"I really made a mess of things."

He chuckles but disagrees, "You didn't. Life happened. Things got confusing. But I think you're on the right path now."

This proves to be the case when her phone pings minutes later. She gets a return email from Gold telling her that he never filled her position, never so much as posted it, and she's welcome to have it back. That in itself is strange. It's certainly against company policy. She wonders why he did it, if he truly was risking so much on the chance she'd change her mind. It seems almost incomprehensible, he's never been an emotional man, and yet…

She can only hand Robin her phone silently, the shock too much for her.

"See? I told you!" Robin says triumphantly, hugging her. "I get to work with you again."

"I guess you do," Regina says, still processing how _easy_ that was. How is this happening? "Now if only my landlord accidentally neglected to sign a new tenant, my life would almost not be a mess."

"Oh, hush. Your life is fine. You're doing worlds better than others. And as for an apartment and furniture, I wouldn't worry about that. Mary Margaret will be welcoming you in her guest room indefinitely. You know that."

"Probably," Regina nods. "But I'm not so sure I want to rely on anyone. I've not been on my own for three years. I should do this on my own."

"You know I'd love to have you here, too."

She thinks he probably says it just to be polite, and it's sweet, but… not exactly a good idea.

"I'd love to be here. But it seems a little fast," she teases him, reaching behind her to steal a kiss.

Robin hums. "It is. But the idea of waking up with you every day seems rather hard to resist."

His words make her feel all warm and gooey. A sense of calm spreads over her because this is _right_. Robin is worth whatever mess and complications arise. She chose the more difficult path in this last minute decision, but she is sure she won't come to regret it.

It's always been Robin.

"And speaking of waking up with you, why don't we have a little kip? You look exhausted."

She wants to tease him about insulting her looks but, well, she really _is_ exhausted.

"I haven't had a good night's sleep in weeks," she admits.

"Me either," Robin sighs. "You are a very difficult person to stop thinking about, trust me I have tried a lot over the past few weeks." Her face falls, she touches her cheek, some sentimental apology stuck in her throat, but before she can say anything he presses a kiss to her lips. "It's alright, love. Let's rest."

It's not how she expected her first time back in bed with him to be, but it feels right. Their relationship is just beginning, and what they missed about each other is the emotional side of intimacy. Reclaiming that takes priority.

She falls asleep nearly the second he wraps his arms around her, making her feel safe, warm, and loved.

.::.

It's night when she wakes, still drowsy and sleep drunk from too long of a midday nap. She moves to rub the blurriness out of her eyes and it jostles Robin the tiniest bit.

Hard not to, when his arm is wrapped so tightly against her.

"Oof," Robin groans, "Not sure how long we slept, but it seems like forever."

Regina reaches for her phone and checks it. 6 PM. "We slept for three and a half hours," she laughs. "I have about six missed calls from Mary Margaret. You know what, I don't regret it. It felt so good."

"Mm," Robin says spinning her towards him. "You," he kisses her neck, "feel," another kiss to her jaw, "very good," he meets her lips.

She kisses him back, wrapping her arms and leg around him as she does.

It's not long until hands are wandering, until she feels him hard against her hip until she starts imagining doing wildly delicious things to him.

"Are you sure you want this?" Robin rasps, diving back down to kiss her, to grind into her, his hand cupping firmly at her ass, urging her to ruck against him. "Instead of having a few dinner dates and bouquets of flowers first?"

"I want this now," she says, still breathless from kissing, "Can't you tell?"

"Need to be sure. It's been an emotional few days for you," he says, tearing himself from her.

"For you too," she reminds.

"Mm, true, it has been," he agrees, "things are looking up though."

He kisses her breathless, his hand finding its way underneath her shirt (his shirt, actually), and he's just reached up to fondle her breasts when her phone buzzes loudly against the wood of his nightstand.

"Ignore it," Regina instructs. He does, lifts up that shirt she's wearing and kisses and sucks all over the sensitive flesh of her breasts.

"You know I love you, right?" he asks as if they weren't saying the words on repeat for hours

"I love you more," she grins, placing both hands on the back of his head, just encouraging him, making it clear she really _really_ want this.

"Fuck, that is so, so good," she moans. "Love this, I—"

Her phone buzzes again, somehow louder this time. Robin stops, pulling away from her

"Answer it," he pleads, sounding like pure sex. "I don't want our minds to be on anything else but each other."

She looks down and grimaces. Mary Margaret.

"Mary, hi," she says, trying not to sound like a panting mess.

"Hey I didn't mean to interrupt…" she can hear Mary Margaret's shit-eating grin from here, "but I was wondering if um, you are telling people you are back? John can't get a flight home at _all,_ the snow in Montana is insane. He was feeling a bit down and it's supposed to storm later tonight, so I thought we could take him to Wolfe's right now before the snow comes. You know how he likes barbecue."

"I…" She really wants to fuck Robin right into the ground right now, but John is a friend and she can't imagine how bummed he's feeling.

"Ruby and Peter are coming, and Will is actually still in town, he is taking the train up on Christmas Eve for some reason. And you know as luck would have it Merida hasn't been able to get a flight yet."

Regina smiles. Her friend is playing matchmaker again.

"Are you trying to hook them up and using us to help you?"

"Why ever would I try to help our friend be happy and how dare I think you'd want to help him find that happiness!" Mary scoffs sarcastically. "I'd understand if you were too _busy_ but I know Robin loves John, so… do you think you can come? I mean assuming you can still walk."

"Mary Margaret!" Regina warns, her cheeks heating at the implication.

Robin's shoulders are shaking, covering his mouth in a silent laugh. Well, looks like he heard her. She slaps his back and shoots him a warning glare.

"Oh, come on, Regina, we saw you two together for years, you could cut the sexual tension with a knife! You guys must have gone crazy on each other!" Mary Margaret exclaims, and Regina's embarrassment nearly ramps to unprecedented levels while Robin chuckles next to her.

She frowns at him and vows to get him back.

"Mary just hold on a second."

Regina looks up at Robin and tells him the details, leaving the decision up to him.

"I really want to go," he whispers, and good, so does she.

"We will be there," she promises. Then she remembers she doesn't have much in Robin's apartment, just a few comfortable clothes she stuck in her carry-on that are mostly summery (in case her luggage was lost when she was in California). "Do you mind if I drop by your place to pick up something… festive for tonight?" she asks, shooting Robin a glare.

"Of course, but get over here _now_ because David and I are leaving in forty-five minutes."

She hangs up the phone and leans in to kiss Robin.

"I'll see you at the party," she says, shedding herself of his pajamas and heading into the living room in nothing but her underwear.

She knows Robin is watching her as she goes. She doesn't have to turn around to see it.

She looks back at him anyway.

.::.

When she reaches Mary Margaret's house she finds her car underneath even more snow. Well, it seems she won't be driving herself anywhere anytime soon. She grabs her suitcases out of the car and drags them to the porch.

"How was it?" Mary Margaret asks as soon as she opens the door, looking wide-eyed and interested.

And Regina has no idea how to answer that except with a half-truth.

"We didn't, um, we didn't do anything today," she says, walking by as nonchalantly as she can.

"What… what happened?" Mary Margaret's face turns worried, her voice low as she asks, "did he have trouble getting it up?"

"What? No!" Regina says, shocked. Mary Margaret looks the very picture of concern and is waiting for an explanation. But she isn't sure should give it yet. Not where David could overhear, any way.

"Um, where can I get changed?" Regina asks, and Mary Margaret leads her to the spare room, following her.

"I want to hear everything. I _deserve_ to hear everything."

"You are going to think some really horrible things about me, Mary Margaret." She grimaces as she opens her suitcase and finds the outfit she's picked out.

"Oh no, Regina, don't tell me you are going back to Daniel."

"What? No! Not that. Okay, this is going to be hard to hear. What I mean is, with Robin? _Today_ all we did was kiss. _Today._ " Regina focuses on removing her shoes a bit before bracing herself and finding the courage to look apologetically at Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret understands almost immediately, sitting on the edge of the bed looking a bit dazed.

"Oh. So there were other days...?"

Regina huffs as she begins to undress, something to put her focus on something else, so she doesn't have to look Mary Margaret in the face. After she has stripped off her jeans and top she confesses, "David's birthday this year was the first time. Daniel and I had had a fight— you know what? No. It wasn't a fight, it was a breakup, and when he wanted to get back together called it a fight but it sure as shit sounded like a break up to me. And I was so upset, and then I got drunk, and you and the rest of the gang left us to go to that bar I hate—"

"I suggested we go to the Drunken Ship. I left you two alone on purpose," Mary Margaret admits with a shy smile. "I did it! I'm your fairy godmother! I set you up!"

"No, you didn't!" Regina protests, even though it is really sounding that way. She struggles to put on her stockings thinking about Mary Margaret's elaborate planning. "And you thought I was with Daniel, anyway, how could you—?"

Mary Margaret shrugs. "I just wanted to see you truly happy. Him too. And okay, I didn't want you to move."

Regina's mouth falls open, holding her skirt and blouse in hand.

"So," Mary Margaret says, elbowing her, "how was it?"

"Mary Margaret," Regina whines, looking down.

"Come on, tell me, I'll tell you what David's like if you tell me—"

"God no!" Regina says, her cheeks hot, turning around and stepping into her skirt so she can hide her fierce blush. It is not that David is disgusting to her — he's very attractive, actually, but with Mary Margaret increasingly becoming like a sister to her, David is _very_ off limits. She doesn't think of him _that way_ anymore, only sees him as the kind man who has made her friend so happy, not the smart, sexy analyst she had admittedly liked to look at when she wanted a view of something pretty.

That was then, now he's just… almost like a brother. The thought of hearing about his antics in the sheets seems awful.

"Okay, but answer me this. Your first time with Robin, was it good?" Mary Margaret asks, unphased.

The question is general enough to where details aren't necessary, and she's been bottling this up for months now, so…

She slides up the zipper of her skirt and then lets herself lean against the wall and sink down to the floor, "So good, so, so good."

"Really?"

"Mary Margaret, we have to go," David calls, peeking through the slit in the door.

"Shh, David!" Mary Margaret waves him off. She turns to Regina in a hushed voice. "What was the best part? He has a nice body… his hands, he seems like he'd be good with them, is he a good kisser? Is he good at…?"

She's going to give her this one. Mostly, okay, because she _actually_ wants to brag about it. Regina bites back a smile and looks at her friend, whispering softly, "He's very very good with his mouth. Everything that um, involves his mouth." She's blushing and smiling like a teenager and doesn't even mind.

"Really?" Mary Margaret slides down to sit next to her on the floor. "Does he do anything special? Is he like one of those hungry types or is like one of those guys whose very precise and calculated, like—"

"Everyone is already there," David huffs from behind the door. "We have to go."

Regina cringes. "I still have to put in makeup." She smiles, whispering quickly, "But he is a hungry type, and oddly… throws some kind of precise moves in there."

Mary Margaret hums approval then smiles deviously. "David's used to waiting, don't worry. We're going to talk more while I do your makeup."

Mary Margaret does her hair as Regina works on her makeup (it's ridiculous, but the woman _is_ good with Regina's hair, she has to give her that. She probably has had lots of practice with hair, she seems the type to have massive slumber parties with hair braiding and styling before bracelet making and pillow fights). Mary asks plenty of follow-up questions that make Regina blush through her foundation. They've never really discussed sex in this context before, not about specifics with partners and gritty details of sex. Regina shoes away from answering many questions, opting to make snarky comments instead that have Mary Margaret rolling her eyes but doesn't seem to deter her in any way.

"So are you going to tease him all night?" Mary Margaret asks, "Make him want it badly? I mean that skirt is… wow."

That has been the plan, but now, the idea of teasing him in front of their friend's sounds… risky.

"I don't know if we are ready to go public with this yet." She admits. "But he said he liked this skirt before. I guess I wanted to…"

"Flirt?" Mary Margaret asks. "You look smoking hot. You _should_ flirt."

"I really can't believe you're still even talking to me. I cheated on my fiancé. I am the villain in every romantic comedy movie that exists."

"I hated the way my father treated my mother, it's true," Mary Margaret says with conviction. "He had a family and a woman who loved him, and I think in his own way he loved her. More than he ever loved any woman I knew, at least. But he never loved _enough_. Not enough to avoid sleeping with any random willing woman. He liked his meaningless flings despite the fact he hurt my mother doing it. Too selfish to give it up."

Mary Margaret smiles at her. "That's not you, Regina. You fell in love with someone and acted imperfectly. Besides, the first time I was with David he hadn't yet broken up with Kathryn."

Regina's jaw nearly hits the floor. "What?"

"You aren't the only one with secrets and you aren't the only one who makes moral mistakes," Mary Margaret sighs. "People are going to judge, but they will get over it fast. Because everyone has something they've hidden from the world. Something they are ashamed of. Some just hide it better than others. You never struck me as one to hide, though."

She has a point.

.::.

"I'm sorry as fuck about your flight, man," Robin says, patting his friend on the back. They are at the bar, waiting on a table and the rest of their friends to arrive. It's obvious John needs cheering up. His birthday is around the holidays, and Robin spent last Christmas with his family. He knows how they go all out for him. John's always been a family man. Sometimes being so far from the rest of his brothers and his parents can hit him hard.

"I should have taken an earlier one," John grimaces, taking a deep swig of his beer. "Had some extra work, wanted to see that Nets game…"

"At least there's plenty of us here," Robin points out. "You won't have to spend Christmas alone. You'll have me, David, Mary, Regina—"

"And Daniel?" John asks, raising his eyebrows.

Robin coughs. "No Daniel, actually. Just Regina."

He looks up at him unsure, almost judgmental. And Robin waits for it.

"They break up then?" John asks.

Robin sighs. "Yeah. And, um, you know how I feel about her. That hasn't gone away." John is only one person he had ever unburdened himself to when it came to Regina. It was about two years ago, and Robin was piss ass drunk. John has listened and told him to move on, to stop doing Daniels bidding, to let him try to care for his own girl for awhile.

Robin should have listened but he couldn't resist making her happy. So every time Daniel has asked for suggestions in gifts, restaurants, or trips, Robin spoke up.

"Figured," John says simply. "I mean, I never liked Daniel."

"I know," Robin sighs.

"But she was his girl until when, a few hours ago, maybe?"

Robin sighs. "She isn't the type of woman who belongs to anyone."

"Still," John, "despite Daniel being a shit for brains, there's a code about this between friends. And you've never broken it in all the years I've known you. You've always been careful about following it."

"And I'm not talking about breaking it. Because I already broke it, in this case." John doesn't look too terribly surprised at the revelation, still, he lifts his eyebrows up more as a courtesy. "I don't feel bad about it, either. I love her."

John looks conflicted. "Your friendship with Daniel—"

"Is over. I tried to keep it up more for her than out of any fondness for Daniel. But yes, it's over."

John seems to be thinking for a moment. "I never thought it was going to work out between them. She was way too into you and Daniel was way too into himself."

Robin smiles a bit. "She wasn't all that into me, actually. Not at first."

"Yeah," John says, downing the last of his beer, "she was."

Robin looks at him, confused, for a second, and John sighs.

"It wasn't anything much. I doubt you could even call it a crush. Nothing like what you felt for her. I just kind of… well, Regina is pretty hot. Not my type personality wise, not like we were a match or I wanted to _date_ her. But you know, she'd be out with us, and…. I liked to look at her, you know, when I first met her. Just harmlessly check her out. And whenever I caught a glance, she was looking at you."

Robin's stomach flips, the mood going tense and twisted.

John's ears are a bright red, ordering another beer as he says casually, "It really wasn't a big deal. And as you know, I'm not into her or anything. I didn't tell you that she liked you because the night you drunkenly confessed your undying love for her, you also vowed to never do anything about it."

"Yeah, and then I realized, what is the point of everyone being miserable all so we can keep some damn code unbroken?" Robin asks. "Daniel wouldn't be happy with her, either. He never quite was. She wasn't what he wants."

John nods. "He wants an Ivy League educated Stepford Wife," John says simply. "Regina tried to be that around him, which was a bit sickening to watch. In a few years I bet we see him with a brilliant blonde on his arm supporting him as he runs for Congress. He's a politician. All about appearances. All about the show. Between that, the obvious narcissism, and how at ease he is with taking credit for others ideas and hard work and I'm surprised that he hasn't already run for some sort of office."

"If you hate him so much, why are you giving me a hard time about Regina?" Robin frowns.

"I'm just making sure that you know what you're doing," John shrugs. "It's your choice. I'll support it. But for years Regina has been Daniel's girlfriend. We all knew her as that. Some of the guys might think less of you for stealing such a close friend's woman."

"You can't steal what never belonged to anyone," Robin says through clenched teeth.

"And I suppose you can't steal what's been given to you?" John asks.

Yes, she did come to him willingly, he really never pushed, not even that night. It was always her choice.

Robin nods.

The bartender stops by with their new drinks, and John lifts his beer.

"Cheers, man. Good luck with everything."

"What are we toasting?" Merida asks, wrapping an arm around John. "To flights being cancelled?"

"Fuck, it happened to you too?" John asks, trying to put on a frown that doesn't quite conceal the surprised smile on his face.

"Yeah," she groans, giving him a hug and then giving a quicker, less comfortable hug to Robin. There are empty stools on either side of them, but she grabs to the one next to John.

Robin smiles.

"My brothers are sending me live updates of Christmas without me, and it's making me sick. My mom made her tablet and cranachan last night and they ate their share as well as mine. And mom bought me a big bag of soor plooms they devoured that as well, then rubbed it on my face."

John chuckles. "I did not understand a word of what you just said there."

"You need to go to Scotland," Merida responds, "I'll show you what a real Christmas is."

"You need to go Montana," John flirts back. "Our Christmas meal would blow yours away."

"Is that so?" Merida asks, "I fucking doubt it. Let me tell you about what we do on Christmas."

Robin very much feels like the third wheel, except a third wheel is usually visible and it seems he's all but disappeared as far as John and Merida are concerned. So he texts David to ask them to hurry the girls up already.

After a few minutes of the two of them "arguing" (but quite obviously flirting), Ruby shows.

"Peter's on his way," She says, kissing Robin's cheek and shooting a sly look over and John and Merida. They haven't even noticed she entered and it's unlikely they will.

They exchange knowing grins. "Mary Margaret and David are due soon. And, uh, Regina."

"What?" Ruby asks, "Oh my god did she and Daniel decide to spend Christmas with us?"

"No Daniel," Robin says as nonchalantly as he can muster.

Ruby's jaw hangs open for just a moment.

"Shit, I hope she's ok."

Robin changes the subject quickly into something less… turbulent. He likes Ruby, she makes easy, comfortable conversation.

But when Regina shows, he cannot think of a damn thing to say.

She's wearing the leather skirt of his wet dreams, leather boots, and a bright red sleeveless top. Her hair isn't exactly straight but isn't her natural curls, either. It's… wavy, he supposes, in a way that looks effortless but probably took some work.

He had worried about her feeling uncomfortable in telling her friends what is going on, but she's walking in deliberate strides towards them and Robin has never seen her more confident in a social setting.

"Well, fuck," Ruby murmurs to Robin. "She looks... happy."

Robin doesn't even know what he would say if he could speak.

"Hey, Rubes," Regina says, leaning in to give her a hug.

"Hey…" Ruby clears her throat. "So you decided to come home for the holidays?"

Regina exchanges a quick glance with Robin and he shakes his head, knowing she's silently asking if he had filled Ruby in on any details.

"Daniel and I broke up. I moved back."

"Shit!" Ruby gasps, holding her hand over her mouth, "Sorry, I just didn't expect that to happen so soon."

"It probably took longer to happen then it should have," Regina admits. Then she winks at Robin. "Hello again." She wraps her arms around him in a hug, kissing his cheek.

They haven't discussed whether they are put in the open yet and he's going to let her take the lead on that.

"Our table's ready, guys!" Mary Margaret calls. "The storm is supposed to hit around eleven, we all need to be home before then."

.::.

Dinner has been going quite nicely, good food, good conversation, and John's decidedly morose mood has quickly brightened, and Robin is sure it has nothing to do with the object of his affection sharing a meal — and lots of laughs — with him.

Speaking of that, Regina has been seated next to Robin, and it's become extremely frustrating.

They are acting as friends, as they always had, but now… she keeps rubbing up his leg under the table. And she's pretty hard to resist touching her himself, his hand repeatedly finding its way to stroke her leather-clad thigh, fingers dancing quickly over the small of her back when he can manage to sneak them there.

But she's doing much of the teasing, rubbing so far up his leg he keeps thinking she's going to touch him, stroke over him until he's hard and aching for her right here at dinner. It's been a day of teasing and tempting himself with her, already. He's not sure how much he can take.

"If you'll excuse me," Regina says, abruptly getting up, "I'll be right back."

After a few moments, he thinks he should use the facilities himself before she makes it impossible for him to stand up again. So he excuses himself as well, walking back towards the restrooms.

She's just stepping out as he enters the hallway where the restrooms are.

He had hoped for this coincidence.

She grabs him by the collar and kisses him hard, fisting at his shirt as she walks herself back against the wall.

Kissing her is pure bliss, or would be, if it wasn't running the risk of exciting him _too_ much, the way she's rubbing up against him and — woah, slipping a hand in the pocket of his jeans to take a squeeze — is really letting his mind wander on what's to come.

He gives her a good groping of his own, finally getting his hands on the tight, tempting leather the way he's wanted to since he first saw her in this skirt.

"Did you wear this for me?" he asks, grabbing at her again.

"Mmmm, maybe." She is kissing him back before he can think of something snarky to say back, and then he loses himself in her for awhile, trading kisses until he thinks he might be delirious from lust.

"Are you coming back with me for the night?" he asks.

"Am I invited?" She asks coyly.

"Mhm, you will be the guest of honor."

"How do you treat your guests of honor?" she asks, jutting her hips against his and pulling him in closer.

"Fuck, Regina," he curses at the feel of her, because she's rocking against where he is already half hard. "I am going to—"

But her expression shifts to one of fear, just then, her eyes focused on something behind and to the left of him. Before he can ask, she's moving away from him, out of his arms, so it almost looks like they are having a casual conversation.

Almost, if her lipstick wasn't smudged, if his face weren't red and flushed, his hair just a bit messy from her hands combing through it.

"Yes, thank you, that's true," she says, her voice hitching. "I suppose you can't go wrong with a scarf and gloves for a gift."

Robin plays along, smiling, "Red or green says Christmas." He turns and looks in a way he hopes is subtle, just in time to see Ruby.

"Hey guys," she says, her smile just a bit too cheery for Robin's liking.

Regina blows out a breath the second Ruby enters the ladies room.

"Oops," Robin says half-heartedly. Regina just shrugs and laughs.

"I'll see you out there."

.::.

Regina had forgotten how nice it is just to be out with Robin, letting herself indulge in him without that guilt, that voice inside telling her she wasn't allowed to feel the way she so obviously felt.

They are flirting and teasing one another, letting themselves brush against one another, letting hands touch and hold each other.

They were already very touchy-feely as friends, so she's sure the actions alone do not merit a second glance. But she still feels that it's quite obvious what is going on, especially now that she's not trying so hard to deny it and let herself soak in the feeling of being with him.

"Robin, I have a girl for you," Merida drawls. She's a bit drunk now, slurring words and looking at Robin with a bit of wild eyes excitement.

John, for his part, looks mortified, "No I don't think he—"

"Oh, no, she's _great,_ and she's British too. Robin, do you know Jasmine?"

Regina's heart pounds a little. It's really silly, truly, it's just…

Well, _she_ knows Jasmine. And she's gorgeous, and sweet, and the woman is confident, elegant… and almost cookie cutter perfect.

She's having a terrible thought right now of wondering what she and Merida could possibly have in common before she realizes she's letting herself get jealous and threatened over nothing.

"I'm not really dating right now," Robin says nervously.

"I know, that is why you _should_ date _her_. She's this cute little pharmacist who works with us, she's gorgeous, I'm sure you've seen her, hold on let me pull up her facebook…"

"No, Merida, I don't need—"

"Hush. I already talked you up actually, last week. She seemed interested, and when I showed her your picture she raised her eyebrows and said 'nice'."

 _What a slut_ , Regina thinks, then instantly chastises herself.

"I'm not interested," Robin huffs, thanks but—"

"But why are you always saying that?" Merida asks, "god knows you like women, she's probably even be interested in something casual."

"Sometimes men aren't interested in a relationship," John supplies, looking far too nervous to not know what's going on.

"What relationship? I'm talking about a _date."_ Merida argues, "She'd probably be cool with a fling, Jasmine looks like a right proper girl, but _believe_ me, she's told me stories—"

"I'm not available!" Robin says, flustered, "I'm, I'm with someone."

"Well, fuck, congrats, man! Who is she? Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Merida asks.

Regina glances at Ruby who stares back at her with some skepticism.

"I… ok, I don't know if we are exactly _together_ …" Robin stammers. "I don't want to jinx it, is what I'm saying."

"Who is she?" Ruby asks, "Someone you obviously really like, or you would not be so nervous right now."

"Yeah, you never seem to care about bringing your girls around," Peter notes. "This must be different."

"Does anyone want another round? On me!" David says nervously. "Another pitcher of beer to go maybe?"

"A pitcher of beer _to go?"_ John asks, incredibly amused with David's attempts.

"Shh, guys. So Robin, do we know her?" Merida asks.

Robin's entire face is beet red, but his ears are especially bright and siren-esque.

"Let's not jinx it," Mary Margaret decides, "come on, let Robin have a bit of a secret."

"Okay _that_ is weird," Ruby says, pointing to Mary Margaret. "You can't stand when we keep things to ourselves, you're always saying we should share everything, that friends have no secrets."

"I…" Mary Margaret stammers off, panicking.

"Hey," Robin says loud enough to silence the side conversations that have aroused. "Listen, I'm with someone I care a lot about, have for awhile. And it's not like other times, I haven't felt this way about anyone before. But it's new, and I don't think she's ready to come out as a couple yet. So can I just have some time, can we both just have some time? Please."

His words touch her, and she can't quite school her smitten reaction.

Ruby stares at Regina as if she has three heads.

"Oh— _Ohh_!" Ruby says as if his speech gave away the key to some elusive riddle.

And then _all_ eyes are on her. On them.

Robin looks offers an apologetic cringe, but he needn't.

He had been wrong. She is ready.

"I just meant…" he starts, trying to talk his way out of this but clearly having no idea what to say.

Regina takes a deep breath and shakes her head.

"Fuck it," she sighs.

She fists his shirt and pulls himself towards her, kissing him soundly.

He's more than pleased with the turn of events, his hand is lost in her hair again, the other on the small of her back, anchoring, but letting her lead, as he always does.

She hears the murmurs as she kisses him but she doesn't mind. She will gladly wear her holiday-themed scarlet letter for the holidays. Much better than trying to act like she's not ridiculously in love with him.

She pulls away from him, exchanging smiles as she reaches in for one last smooch.

"Well, holy shit balls," Merida exclaims. "Did not see _that_ coming."

"Well then you're the only one," Ruby snorts.

Regina looks at Robin and shrugs.

"Under the circumstances, I'd appreciate if you didn't set Robin up with Jasmine."

It breaks some of the tension and confusion, and people laugh — perhaps a bit too hard.

"I think I'm confused," Peter murmurs. He should be, the last time he saw Regina he was at her _engagement_ party.

"I know what many of you may be thinking," Regina sighs. "In fact, I spent a lot of time denying myself _this_ because of what I know you might think of me or Robin. But nothing felt right without him, and life is so short. I did not want to waste any more time trying to talk myself out of my feelings."

"Well, I'm going to say congratulations to you both," Ruby says. Peter shoots her a confused glare, and she adds, "What? I'm not close friends with Daniel. I don't owe him any loyalty."

"I really love you guys," Merida smiles, "Just when I was thinking about how much I missed the family Christmas drama, you bring in a good old fashioned love triangle. I've never felt closer to home!"

"Oh god, don't get me started on family drama," Mary Margaret groans, "my family Christmas party this year is going to be _awful..."_

And just like that, the conversation shifts, and Robin and Regina's relationship is no longer the focus.

Robin squeezes her thigh in comfort, and Regina smiles at him.

Everything is out in the open, now.

.::.

It's Mary Margaret who first notices the snow falling.

"We have to leave now. We're supposed to get 8-12 inches tonight!"

Robin had walked over, and Regina is definitely invited but in those heels and that outfit, she will not make the 12 block walk back.

Luckily, David offers to drive them.

"You know you're welcome at our house," Mary Margaret offers needlessly. "Our guest room is all set up for you. And I know your place doesn't have cable or internet or…"

"Furniture?" Regina finishes for her. "Yeah. I'll get it sorted later. But thank you, I may have to take you up on that. Later." She looks at Robin, unable to stop smiling.

"We'll see you both for Christmas dinner?" Mary Margaret asks, "Assuming we aren't still snowed in?"

"We wouldn't miss it," Regina assures, hugging her from the back seat. "I love you, thanks for everything."

"Have fun," Mary Margaret says pointedly. "See you soon."

"Come on," Robin says, pulling her towards the elevator as soon as David drives off. "I've been waiting to get you alone all night."

"Have you?" She asks in mock innocence.

He doesn't answer in words, only with a very obvious, very indulgent ass grab.

When they get in the elevator he goes in first, directing her in front of him. One hand firmly on her ass, the other wrapped around her shoulder as he dots kisses down her neck.

Regina tilts her head back to kiss him, and he nearly _growls_.

They make it to his apartment much like that, Regina walking ahead of Robin, who has his hands on her hips as she walks.

When they are both safely in the apartment, he _takes_ her.

Pushes her against the door, unzips her coat, and nearly rips it off her, kissing her hard and passionate, cupping at her breasts, grabbing at her ass.

She manages to get his coat off and popped open a few buttons herself.

"You drove me crazy tonight," Robin rasps into her neck. "So hard to not touch you like I wanted to."

"I know the feeling," she whispers back.

"It was always a struggle but knowing you feel the same way, and you wanted me, and you wore that for me..."

He has a hand on the bottom of her red top and tugs it lightly.

She nods and lifts her arms, helping him take it off her.

"God," he groans, his eyes taking over her body in appreciation.

She's wearing the same black, sheer bra from their first time together.

"Wore that for you too," she whispers.

"Fuck," Robin says tracing the edges of her bra. "Thought about this so many times…"

"Me too," she admits, cupping the back of his head and directing him towards her chest. "Could you, like the first time…?"

He gets the message, sucking through the thin fabric the way he did that first night. It felt so good that night, and this time is even better, now, being entirely sober and getting to revel in the sensation.

She tosses her head back and lets it hit the door behind her, her hands combing through his hair, a pleasant sigh escaping her as he sucks and kisses his way across her chest. She missed this, needed this, wanted this, is so damn lucky she gets to feel this again.

"Thought about having you in this skirt more than I care to admit." His hand is on the zipper, hovering over. "Now I can't wait to get you out of it," he groans, unzipping it.

It's skin-tight, and she's wearing boots, so she breaks the moment enough to bend down and unzip those first, wiggling out of it until she's just in tights and lingerie.

"You are so gorgeous," Robin moans, his hand sliding delicately over her curves, as if he's reacquainting himself with her.

She can't think of a single reason for her to not return the sentiment. She reaches for the buttons of his shirt and undoes them, then helps him out of his undershirt.

If he can ogle her she can sure as hell ogle him. She lets herself indulge in the feeling of the muscles of his torso, up to his chest, then scratches lightly down his body until her hands meet the button of his slacks.

He shivers, and it does things to her.

"You have such a nice body," she says with a coy smile before pressing a wet kiss to his pectoral muscle. She licks and sucks, as he had done to her, her tongue sliding over his chest, then nipple, then down to his stomach as Robin groans and curses softly.

She gives him that attention, bending down until she is on her knees in front of him, smiling up as she meets his eyes and unbuttons his fly.

Robin has such an expressive face. And now he looks like he's trying very hard not to take her right now, the way he's drawing loud, shallow breaths, that dark, lustful stare of his, the way he moans at every touch.

Regina quite likes the way he's reacting to him, and it makes her hungry for more.

"Missed this," Regina says, unzipping his jeans cradling his erection with her hand. "Missed being with you like this, even though it hasn't been that long."

"Fuck, it's been ages," Robin grunts. "especially with how much I had wanted and waited for you and thought about you..."

"I thought about you, too," she whispers. "Thought about this with you, so many times. Even before our first time."

That catches his attention, she can hear the way he blows out a breath.

"Really?"

"Yes," she says, slowly pushing his jeans down. "Sometimes it was just curiosity, wondering how you would be, how you'd kiss, how you'd move… sometimes it was more than curiosity."

She shoves down his boxers so she can give him a firm stroke.

"You look gorgeous," he rasps, weaving his hand through her hair. How does he do that? Pay those innocent compliments to her when she's on her knees for him?

"You must say that to all the girls while they are holding your cock," she teases, earning a throaty indignant laughfrom the man she loves.

"I can't say I've ever said it in, um, this position before," he rasps, his hand still tangled in her locks (she thinks he approves of her decision to grow her hair long, the way he keeps touching and stroking her hair.). "Did you… did you really think about me before we ever…?"

"Yes," she admits, stroking him lazily. "Back when you were just my best friend," she puts her mouth on him, takes his cock down her throat, sucking softly as she swirls her tongue around the shaft. His moan is pure sex, the very sound of desire and desperation, so she feels devilish when she playfully releases him, looking up in feigned naivety to finish her thought. "You would always touch me in this way I _thought_ was innocent." She raises her brow, giving him another stroke. This time he's wet from her mouth and a bit more eager, thrusting into her palm as she does. "Those little back rubs, how you'd hold my hand just to lead me somewhere, or help me up stairs when I'd wear these heels you didn't trust…"

"I remember," he says with a dry laugh.

"I liked your hands," she admitted, dropping her voice low. "You had this firm grip when you held mine, the way you moved when rubbing my back, very confident, but gentle," she puts him in her mouth again, bobbing twice before releasing him, her tongue licking firmly around the tip of him, her skin going warm when she hears his labored _Christ_. She lets him go again, smiling up at him. He cups her cheek softly, smiling at her. "Used to imagine how it would feel to be touched by you everywhere."

"Was it as good as you imagined?" he asks, his voice tight, his breath a bit labored. Good, she wants him nice and worked up.

"Better," she admits, and then she sucks at him in earnest, her hand jerking him in tandem with her mouth, the other reaching down to give his balls a squeeze. "Though my thoughts led to some pretty amazing orgasms."

"Fuck, you're so, so much better at everything than I'd imagine," he huffs, his hand in her hair now, and that's good, that makes this even more enjoyable as she takes him down her throat, not only feeling him but _hearing_ him give her those compliments in labored breaths.

"God, Regina, I used to think of what it could be like with you, I didn't know, mm! Didn't know it could ever happen. I wanted you to want me so badly — _god_ that feels good!"

He has a gift, saying touching things that warm her heart even in the most compromising of situations.

But he should know, she can't just _not_ say anything, so she slides him out of her mouth again, reminding him, "I do want you. And did, even back then, even when I shouldn't have. Even when I tried to deny it to everyone, including myself."

She focuses on his pleasure completely now, sucking and swirling her tongue as she takes him in and out of her mouth.

She loves the sounds he makes, the murmured compliments stifled by groans of pleasure, she loves the way he grips at her hair, not pulling, just grasping, tightly when she her tongue molds against that vein in his cock, even tighter when she swirls her tongue around the tip, flicking the area underneath in a way that has him making this throaty gasp she doesn't think she will ever tire of hearing.

She looks up to meet his eyes, and he's breathing heavy, brows furrowed, eyes focused on her, a slight curve to his lips when her eyes meet hers.

"Gorgeous... fuck, god, you've no idea how good you look sucking my cock, _mm!"_

He says it in a throaty chuckle, and she responds with a hum of approval that must do something wonderful to him, because his hips are bucking, thrusting into her deeper, groaning "Fucking _Christ_ love, my god, I'm..."

She knows he's close now so she gives his balls a little squeeze as she bobs a bit faster on him, and his moans get a bit more desperate, movements a bit quicker.

She's surprised when he pulls back from her, looks up with him in confusion.

"I want you," he grunts.

He has her, and she's about to say that, but he's pulling her up, kissing her fiercely, and then taking off the remainder of what he's wearing in a confident way that makes her lose all thought of protest.

"Bedroom," he says softly, kissing her as he leads her backward into his room.

The back of her knees hit the bed and she sits down on with a smile. Robin rids her of her tights and underwear, then removes her bra.

"Well, Merry Christmas to me," he groans, looking at her body as if it were something magical.

She rolls her eyes playfully, but it _is_ rather cute of him, especially since it sounds so authentic

"Come here. I want you," she beckons reveling in how his eyes widen at her words.

Instead of following her request he stays standing at the edge of the bed, stroking her sex softly.

"It's a crime I haven't been here yet. It's been so long."

And yes, yes it is, so he better get to fucking.

But he kneels down on the edge of the bed instead, grabbing her legs and pulling her to the edge until his mouth is inches away from where he obviously wants to be.

Oh, _that._

"Too long since you've gone down on me?" she chuckles.

"Mhm, it's been _weeks,_ Regina."

She snorts and thinks about Daniel's thoughts and reservations of going down on her. She was too bossy, she was not vocal enough in her pleasure, he found it… unsatisfying. She won't bring up Daniel now, but fuck, it is nice to have a man who wouldn't let months go by without using his tongue.

"Tell me what you need," he asks, and then he's on her.

She sighs, moaning softly as he works her up, his tongue tracing around her lips before darting inside her. God she loves this.

"That's good," she assures, rocking into him. He does it more while his thumb starts to rub her clit from over the hood, the stimulation teasing but not quite, just enough to make her orgasm build but know she won't spill over, not like this.

She hears him moan into her, and that riles her even further, the idea of him _enjoying_ this, not just for her reaction or his ego, but because it's something that he really likes in its own right.

They settle into an easy rhythm, her hands stroking his hair while his fingers stroke far more sensitive places, his tongue everywhere but where she likes it.

She gives the occasional direction, a soft _harder_ or _more of that — don't stop!,_ even places her own hand where she wants him to show him how she touches herself, and he's not annoyed. He's happy it seems, with her directions, tells her so, muttering how hot she is, how he loves how well she knows her body, asking her to tell him more.

"You keep getting wetter," he moans, drawing his tongue wide as he gives her another strong lick before adding, "More turned on, it's so hot."

Regina can't think of anything to say except hissing a _yesss_ in response.

At a particularly tantalizing pass of his thumb, she moans out "Please — your tongue — on my clit, please!"

He draws back enough to look her in the eyes. "No need to be so polite, darling," he snickers. "I like being bossed around."

For a second she gets that low queasy feeling in her belly, left over insecurities from long ago.

But Robin _loves_ her, he isn't insulting her, he doesn't see it as negative, using the language is just lighthearted fun, so she smiles and palms the back of his head, directing him back towards her.

She lets her mind go blank and just enjoy the feeling of his tongue, of his fingers hovering over the top of her clit, holding her in place,

His other hand shifts, fingers slip inside her and thump lazily against her g spot. She sighs pleasantly, rocks into him encouragingly and focuses on the feeling.

She's so close she's almost holding her breath, whimpering slightly as she pulls at his hair and manages a _just like that_ and a _keep going._

He's too slow with his fingers to get her off in _that_ way, but it feels so satisfying as she clenches around them, those little fluttering spasms coming from the more than adequate attention he's paying her clit.

She has done this before, rubbed her clit as she used a wand, even used two toys once, to get the dual stimulation. She's never managed to get off both ways at once, but there's really nothing like a clitoral orgasm when there's something inside you, she's missed that feeling more than she knew…

Robin looks up at her, his eyes locking with hers, and she can see how hard he's working, the movements of his lips and tongue as they press and slide against her.

"Close," she breathes, because _god_ she doesn't want him to change even one thing, she can get off like this it'll build to something with a bit of patience…

Or rather, she _thought_ she didn't want him to change a thing because then he moves to suck on her clit hard and her arousal spikes, the feeling intensifying and sky rocketing her right to the edge.

"God, Robin, mm!"

His tongue flicks against the most sensitive part of her, and then she's soaring over, contracting around his fingers while he licks and sucks at her, huffing a relieved "Ohhhh" as she lets go. She loses her breath, pants and can't fully regain it, can't come down from this high quite yet and doesn't want to either, not while the tingling, soothing waves of pleasure are strumming through her. She can be breathless, it's worth it.

She focuses on the feeling until it dulls, then becomes sharp and less pleasurable, until she has to tap Robin's shoulder and squirm.

He smiles at her a bit sheepishly. His face is red, his cheeks and his scruff wet from her, and if there's any question whether he's had enough, he licks his lips, shutting his eyes as if he's entranced by her taste.

"You said you want to be inside me," she rasps, beckoning him to come join her on the bed. "come prove it."

He laughs, then lies next to her on his side, pressing a kiss into her brow.

.::.

He's painfully hard now, but he will wait for her (as he always has, at one point he had doubted this strategy, but he wouldn't change a single thing now that she is with him, warm and willing and in love with him, having given everything up to be with _him)._

It would have been ideal had they not had to wait and suffer through years apart, but if it all led to this, he can't really regret it.

He already knows her so well despite only two nights with her before this - but he's a fast learner and paid attention.

She could easily fuck his brains out right now, but if he waits a bit until she's ready, if he works her up a bit first, the sex is more explosive for both of him and that's what he wants.

It's not their first time, but it feels like it is, in some ways, perhaps because it's the start of something, a new beginning for them both. This isn't just for tonight, this isn't goodbye, this is two people in love, hopefully in a long, lasting relationship.

And he wants it to be special, so he's going to have to exercise some patience yet again.

He runs his fingers up and down her side, reveling in her soft sighs, the way her lips purse and part as her eyes shut tight.

"That was amazing," she rasps. Then she turns to her side to face him, so they are so close he'd only have to tilt his head slightly to kiss her. Regina's hand reaches between them to touch him, stroking him.

He's unable to resist her touch, try as he might, groaning and thrusting into her palm.

But she's not ready yet, so he moves her hand away and shakes his head, "give yourself a second, darling. I can hold a bit."

"You almost popped off in my mouth," she reminds him, creating an infectious chuckle between them.

"I like waiting," he assures, "feels better in the end."

She raises her eyebrows and smirks at him, obviously getting the dual meaning, and he can only shrug.

"I'm never making you wait again." she says sincerely. He didn't want to break the mood, to make her feel at all guilty. He's fine, really. The last few weeks have been miserable for him, but he suspects she felt a lot of that too. And the back-and-forth was maybe unfair of her, but he knew what he was getting into, he can't let her blame herself for that.

So he ignores all of _that_ type of waiting and keeps the convo light and sexy

"But it feels good though, doesn't it?" he asks, stroking her side again, giving her hip a right squeeze. "I wanted you all night, which wasn't new, but knowing I would get to have this later was very…" he interrupts himself when he sees her biting that perfect bottom lip of hers, unable to resist kissing her, "very satisfying. And also made it harder to be patient."

"I wanted you too," she confirms. "All night. And teasing you in the skirt was fun."

"Mmm, you are so sexy. Effortlessly so. I cannot tell you how many times just a simple thing you did drove me to distraction and I couldn't stop thinking about you all day. You would just walk by and then my mind was goo for the rest of the day."

She looks touched, so he continues.

"Sometimes I would watch you eat something, or the way you'd delicately sip from your coffee cup, or a little innocent sigh you'd make and it was… cute or sexy, or both. And then I'd think about what it would be like to kiss you, or touch you, make you make sounds like that, and take matters into my own hands once I got home."

She smirks, she's blushing, and he knows she's affected by his words, so he doesn't get too offended when she asks, "over a _coffee cup?"_

" _You_ drinking from a coffee cup, with your lips all pursed, your eyebrows all intense and furrowed then relaxed as you'd enjoy it, licking your lips and making this little hum that sounded like pure heaven. And then I would think about pleasing you, fucking you, eating you, different ways I could make you make those sounds, watch your face tense in anticipation, then relax in pleasure."

"Those are very selfless thoughts to have while jerking off," she teases, And well, that's true, he knows not many people would jerk off to the thought of _eating her out_. He wonders if she doesn't believe him, or finds him perverse in some way — but only for a moment, because she draws a blended knee up over his hip, and he thinks she must be into it.

"I think that's how I knew I loved you," he says, a joke laced with a bit too much sincerity to be taken as such. "Getting to see you, watching the way you respond when you're so turned on and I touch you…" they are rocking against one another now, her wet core against where he is still stone hard and it feels so damn good, "god, you've no idea how much I enjoy it."

"I think I have an idea," she smirks, giving him a short tongue filled kiss. "You aren't the only one who's fantasized about this."

"Tell me," he groans, he's so turned on now, his heart racing, blood pulsing. He won't last long if she starts telling him how much she wanted him, but he can't really resist asking.

"I always felt guilty," she laughs, but he doesn't even like a mention of the guilt, it has to leave them both. "That one day when Killian and John ditched us at the movies and we ended up with a whole row to ourselves, it kept crossing my mind…just i had been on a bit of a dry spell, and—-"

"Dry spell?"

"Sometimes that happens in relationships, doesn't it? And—"

"I can't fathom you ever going through a dry spell as long as we're together," he says honestly. Frankly he's never had a woman undergo a dry spell with him, though there have been periods, of course, with Marian, where they went without. Though that wasn't _his_ doing.

"Regardless, it had been awhile, and I wanted it,badly. Not just a release, I wanted to _be_ with someone. And you were there, and we were alone, and you kept leaning in to whisper jokes to me about the movie, and it was cold, and, um, you elbow brushed against my breast, and it was dark, you didn't know… but then I was so turned on and fighting it for the rest of the movie."

He vaguely remembers being at the movies alone with her, that it was awkward in a mostly empty theatre in the dark with the woman he loves. But he never dreamed she wanted him back then, so he always pushed those thoughts out of his mine.

He can only gulp and listen to her continue, his hand anchored at her hip, urging her to bring herself against him while she talks.

"Later, — _mm!_ I kept imagining you, you doing more, me telling you I _needed_ it — _god, Robin!_ that I was on edge and and aching and needed you to make me feel good. And it was… just helping me, as a friend, sort of." She's flushed, cheeks red and hot, not blushing, too far gone for that, too obviously into the fantasy. "You'd put your hand down my pants, down my shirt, give me what i needed right there, while i struggled to be quiet. And you really enjoyed it, fuck you liked it so much, told me you'd take care of me whenever I wanted, that you were at my disposal." She's dragging herself up and down him more deliberately, getting herself worked up, fuck she's ready for him now. "See in my fantasies I am selfish. I usually wanted to fuck after you got me off, so we'd sneak off somewhere, and you'd just let me get on top, straddle your lap and just get off on you… but, you'd— oh!— really like it."

He kisses her deeply, unable to get her fantasy out of his head.

"Please promise me," he pants, pulling out of the kiss, his mind going blank as she presses into his erection, so wet,dragging herself, base to tip. "Fuck, Christ, you feel so good, mm!". Where was he again? Oh. "if you're ever wanting it you come to me. Immediately. No matter what is going on."

Regina lets out a little half laugh, but doesn't stop rubbing against him. "I have a high sex drive, Robin. I don't, _mm_! think you know what you're asking."

"Oh, I know." He knows partially through the bragging of his former friend, of course, but he won't speak of that. "We've spent a couple of nights together, if you don't remember."

"Mmm, I could never forget. Each time _I_ had been waiting for awhile, and that made it feel even better."

Hi bites his lip hard, just at the memory of how she felt, trying not to get ahead of himself.

"I think," she pants, "I've waited long enough. I want you."

He bites his lip, wondering how he's going to hold off long enough to make a good showing of this, she's been bringing into him, he already feels release churning inside him, it's much too soon for that.

"How do you want it?" she asks, so sweetly, as if she can tell how desperate he is for release.

"I want to see your face," he says softly, stroking a finger along the side of her face, from eyebrow down to the curve of her mouth. "And after what you just told me, I think I might like…"

He moves so he is sitting on the bed, legs slightly parted, his hands bracing himself on the bed behind him.

"You really know what you're doing," he rasps, urging her onto his lap. "I think I want to watch you."

She smiles and straddles him, hooked each ankle underneath his thighs so he's fully in her control, and then she's rocking against his cock before taking him in her hand and rubbing herself against the tip.

His hands are behind him, bracing himself as he sits, so he can't really touch her, can't direct or encourage. She has all the power, and it's a bit freeing, actually, letting her take charge, set the pace and rhythm she likes.

She takes him inside her slowly, though she's so damn wet, so soft, he could slide in without must resistance at all. But she does it slow, her arms around his neck, looking him in the eye as she lowers herself down.

They both groan, both let out breathless gasps at the feel of it, for him it's just so damn warm, so wet, so soft and snug around him.

He wants to wrap his arms around her and hold her, move with her, but this is better, keeping his hands to himself is a challenge, it also makes it a bit easier to hold out for her, god knows he's close, and grabbing at her might be too much, might have him reaching near the edge entirely too soon.

So he doesn't cup the back of her head or wrap a hand tightly around her hip. He does dip his head down to press an open, sucking kiss into her breast, drawing up with a slight bit of teeth at the end, because he knows she likes the bit of roughness. Sure enough, he hears her little _Ahhh!_ as his mouth leaves her and is unable to keep the smirk from his face.

She cups his chin and urges him to kiss her. He does, kissing her languidly as she fucks him at the same pace.

She releases his lips with a wet pop, leans backwards to admire him, running a hand through his hair.

He can't stop staring at her, his brow is furrowed and he swears to god he has to keep from drooling at how beautiful she is right now.

The pace picks up, she's going faster, making these maddening moans of pleasure, her hands still wrapped around his neck, bracing herself, smiling one moment, her jaw-dropping the next, and he desperately wants to touch her and kiss her and watch her all at once.

Instead he just enjoys the feeling of her warm soaked heat enveloping him, taking him in deep then letting him go, god, he wants to see how they look, if he can, if there's enough space between their bodies to look at her riding him, taking him in and out, but he can't stop looking at her beautiful face, watching as pleasure takes her but by bit.

And he's already so hard, and so close those tantalizing tendrils of pleasure prickling from low in his belly, everything buzzing and churning, becoming more sensitive with each pass, every time he hears those unbelievably sexy moans of hers, god he's teetering on edge and just might die from this.

She moves one hand from his neck and wedges it between them, and _oh god_. He knows what she's doing, and he wants to let her, wants to watch her touch herself, but also watch the effect it has on her, watch her expression as she writhes.

His eyes are focused on her beautiful face, watching her bounce and bite her lip as she works herself up on him, using his body to get to her release and fuck how he loves every moment of it.

"God— _mm—_ you feel so good."

"You too," he whispers back, "and look amazing, you've no idea how…" he can feel the movements of her wrist against his torso, those twisting movements reminding her what she's doing, and he can't help but tilt

down and groan, opening his eyes to watch her, murmuring. "God, yes, touch yourself, love when you do that, could look at you like this all day, mm, Regina…"

His fingers itch to touch her, but he doesn't, instead, he kisses down her neck, tilting his head far down to catch a nipple in his mouth, the sound she makes is heavenly — too heavenly— oh god, oh fucking god, slow down, slow down.

"Regina!" His voice is so breathy, so desperate, it almost sounds like he's in pain, but he's not, not at all, the opposite of that. "I'm too… please, god please, slower, I'm, I'm sorry."

She does slow down, a coy smile spreading over that beautiful face, but she doesn't pause her ministrations, her hand still moving fast against his stomach. He draws his chin down to look at her touching herself, her fingers rubbing her clit, god she's a vision.

She keeps working herself up, it's a slow pace to fuck but she's touching herself faster and harder, until her grip on his neck grows tight and her head tilts down, resting on his shoulder with an _Oh goddd!_

She's close, almost there, so he shifts his weight so he can wrap one arm around her, palming and grabbing her ass tightly. She responds with a little sigh, her head leaving his shoulder to look at him, hissing out a little breathless _yessss_ when he grabs her ass a bit tougher, a bit harder.

He uses that hand to push her close, so he can kiss her tits again, so he can hold her steady against him.

"Robin, oh! Keep, keep doing that, I'm, _ahh_! Just there..."

He's thrusting into her as hard as the position will allow, as hard as he can manage without toppling over the edge himself.

"Won't stop, I'll keep fucking you— _mm_!— , just like this, til you come, til you come on my cock, god love, you feel so, so, good…"

He can feel her contracting around him, more than those little flutters. She's so tight, so wet, so perfect, too perfect, oh god, please come soon, please…

"Robin," she gasps, and god she's a sight, hair tousled, skin flushed and slick with sweat, bouncing on top of him a bit faster now, taking him in so deep, fuck…

"You are… so good at this," is all he can manage to moan, it's the understatement of the fucking century but it will have to do, "you're so good, love when you are in control, want you to do this always, take what you need when you need it, love, _ohfuckingchrist_!"

He has to bite the inside of his mouth because she picks up the pace hard then and he thinks he might explode, but she lets out this breathy little whine in _that_ way he already knows means she's close.

He fights it out, holds it in, holding his breath as her body goes stiff, as she wraps her free arm around him tighter.

"I'm going to—!"

"God yes, let go, please!" he pants in labored breath

Her body dips toward, a relieved groan falls on her lips as she presses her forehead against his, eyes shut tight as she finally — dear god, finally — comes.

She loses her rhythm a bit, so he shifts, wraps his other hand around her, presses his body close to her as she rocks into him, her hand leaves her clit and wraps around _his_ back, and they are hugging one another tightly as she comes off her high, that satisfied smile falling over her face as she breaths sighs of relief.

"Good?" he asks needlessly, his pride seeping out of the question he already knows the answer to.

She laughs, shoes her head and rolls her eyes.

"You damn well know how good it was," she says, still a bit breathless. And then she places her hands on his chest and pushes him back. "I'm not done though. I think I can… Lie down. I want to fuck you hard."

"Please," Robin breaths.

He doesn't fight, just lets his back fall down to the mattress, watching as she readjusts herself—sitting upright. He had wondered if she needed another moment but this position seems to work for her, nothing's on her clit, and she still looks a bit blissed out as she moves on him.

"You feel so good," she murmurs, her hips swivel as she finds a position that works, and he watches as she breathes, slow and steady at first, then hitched, a little smile as she must get the angle right.

"God I love your cock," she moans, and the sheer _sound_ of _Regina_ saying that is almost enough to have him coming before she even starts.

He grabs two palms full of her ass, squeezing tight as she moves, faster and faster, bouncing on top of him shamelessly, his Regina, his woman, moaning for him, because of him, fuck, he's close, he needs to, needs it...

"Fuck you're so wet," Robin praises, "tight, god I can feel you, you feel…"

"Don't stop!" she orders, as if reading his mind. "Going to come again."

He moves to touch her, to touch her clit and help her get there, but she swats him away, moving his hand to her nipples instead.

"Not that way," she says breathlessly, and he gets it, he understands, and fuck, that's so fucking hot, it's—

"Mm, just from my cock?" he asks, his hands teasing her breasts the way she likes.

"So good, don't stop, mm, harder!" her hand covers one of Robins, urging him to be firmer with his attention to her nipples, and he does it, plucks and twists the sensitive peaks as she cries out in relief, bouncing on him harder, god, he can't help but look at where they are joined, where her slippery wetness is taking him in and out, they look so good together, so perfect.

"Ahh!" Her voice sounds like ecstasy, like sin and heaven, all things of pure pleasure.

"Oh god, you sound amazing, please get yourself off on me, I feel it, you need to… I'm trying, love, _mm!_ I'm so close…"

He is painfully hard now, so sensitive, every thrust of her hips sending a shockwave of pleasure through him, that tingling, acute feeling surrounding him, that weightless feeling hitting his head, as if there were nothing on earth but her and him and the _feeling_ of this, and he's quickly reaching the point of no return, fuck.

"Mm, Robin!" He feels her push hard on his chest as her walls clench around him — thank god, just in time, he lets himself breathe, let's the feeling surround him as he follows her, coming mere seconds later.

Holding it in was so… much, took so much control, so much pain, but it's worth it. The relief he feels is almost an out of body experience, and he gets wrapped up in it, murmuring _thank fuck_ and _oh my god_ and probably several other embarrassing things as he spills into her in several jolting spurts.

She collapses on top of him, still keeping him inside her, riding it their orgasms a bit. He starts to feel that over sensitive tingle and is about to slow her when she does so herself, sighing and going slack against his neck.

"I love you," he pants. "so, so much."

"Love you too," she sighs. "And not just because you just give me the best orgasms."

He laughs, still breathless from his own release. He opts for squeezing her tight in response of any words, and she kisses his neck. A few moments later she finally shifts off him and he slides out of her, missing her warmth nearly the second it happens.

"I'm so happy," she murmurs. "Happier than I've ever been." It makes his heart soar, fulfills him in ways he can't explain. Her happiness has always been of the utmost importance to him.

"I'm happy too," he responds. "Infinitely more so since you said that, and I didn't think I could feel any better."

She snuggles into him, kissing his cheek, neck, and lips. He kisses back, as they settle into a comfortable, easy position and enjoy the afterglow.

They fall asleep, naked and flush against one another, when he wakes up in the middle of the night, hours later, he has a blanket over him and Regina in his arms. He's not sure what could he more perfect.

He knows she has a lot of stuff to sort out, she has to find a place to live (he wants her to live here, now, but she's right, it's too soon), she needs furniture and to talk to family, they need to talk to Daniel or figure out what to do with that…. but right now, for the holidays, he hopes she won't think of anything but enjoying the moment.

God knows they deserve that.

.::.

When morning comes Regina feels nothing but elation. No guilt surrounding their nightly activities, no fear of her feelings, nothing but pride in reliving every sordid thing they did last night. It goes to her head, the feeling of finally being free, of letting herself be exactly where she so desperately wanted.

"Good morning," she sighs, kissing him, morning breath and all, as she snuggles closer.

"A _very_ good morning," he responds, voice gravelly with sleep. "How're you feeling?"

"Pretty wonderful."

"Me too," he sighs. "Everything's okay? Really? No regrets, no—"

"No, not this morning," she smiles lightly. "This morning I just want more of you, and more time in bed."

"That," he says, a devilish smile spreading over his face, "can be arranged."

They spend much of that last day before Christmas Eve in bed, wandering out to grab a late breakfast at a diner, then coming back to Robin's apartment for more of one another, more sharing memories and healing from the pain of almost losing one another, more love, more passion, clinging to one another whatever way just to prove that they can.

Regina makes them decorate last minute for Christmas with decorations they can find at the nearby drugstore. It's cheesy and a bit hokey looking, but it's fun and festive, feels so ridiculously domestic and sweet already.

It's not all pure bliss, after all, she's created a bit of a mess for herself, after all, and she can't avoid calling her parents and telling them the news that their daughter will _not_ be living in Los Angeles and in fact is currently nowhere near the west coast at all.

It's terrifying, but Robin has the fabulous suggestion she talks to her dad and places him in charge of breaking the news to her mother, asking him to protect her, because she needs protecting right now. It works, and Robin is there for her through the whole phone call, which is oddly calming and grounding. She feels safe with him, she's not embarrassed of her relationship with her parents.

She manages to make the request of her dad, fearful as she is.

"I need you to talk sense into her. I need you to protect me from what we both know she will say. I know I screwed up. I just want to be happy and I can't have her make me feel guilty for this. She's a big reason I almost went through with this and wound up in a loveless marriage. Please, Dad."

Her dad is so apologetic, telling her he will handle everything, that she shouldn't talk to her mother until he calls first and tells her she's properly calmed down. He promises to protect her.

She should have asked him more directly years ago, should have made clear the pain Cora had caused her.

But that's the past. In so many different ways, this Christmas has signified a fresh start, a second chance at relationships she thought were doomed to be one way forever.

So she's willing to hope things can be fixed, that she can have a better relationship with both her father and her mother in the future.

It wouldn't be the only Christmas miracle that's happened this year, would it?

She lets herself completely indulge in Robin and this fresh start as snow falls outside, blanketing everything in a sea of white.

.::.

The last few Christmases Regina has spent in Maine, but she never really felt at home.

This Christmas, Mary and David decide to ditch the party at Mary's mother's house to celebrate with those who got snowed in. It's just Robin, Regina, Killian, three of Mary Margaret's childhood friends who are actually quite sweet, John and… Merida, as luck would have it.

Now Regina can see how Mary Margaret plays matchmaker and it's actually quite cute. Perhaps there will be another new couple for Christmas.

Truth be told, they live in a transplant town. Most of their young coworkers are not from the area, they've moved here for a chance to work at one of the best pharmaceutical companies in the world. The area has collected medical technology firms around it along with a major insurance company and another pharmaceutical plant stuck in the area. They tend to do an excellent job of poaching and losing employees to one another, but it's all the same group of people who move here and stay. So around Christmas time, there's always a mass exodus of those going home to family.

As a result, the city is half empty but no less cheery, full of families who have settled here instead of the young singles they usually find littering the streets.

Maybe one day, Regina will start a family here, too.

It's too soon to think of that but really, she can't think of any place she'd rather be.

Her phone buzzes, and she checks the call. Her mother is calling again.

She ignores it and doesn't feel an ounce of guilt. Her father told her to wait until he determined it was safe to talk to her, and she's trusting his judgment.

Though not even Cora's harsh words could bring her down right now.

It's a beautiful Christmas as she is at home with her makeshift family that means more to her than she could ever put into words.

Robin keeps slipping peppermint schnapps into her hot chocolate, stirring his own with a candy cane. A Christmas Story is on on the background, but you can barely hear it over the conversation. She likes this. There is none of the usual holiday tension or serious conversation. It's just friends trading stories of their favorite Christmas presents and favorite Christmas stories, and laughing about antics of one another while she cuddles up next to the person she loves most in the world.

She reaches over to pull Robin into a quick kiss, but he deepens it, makes it more. They are on display and she doesn't care much at all who bears witness to their affections, not right now.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get enough of you," he whispers. "Still keep forgetting I can kiss you whenever I want, now."

"Within reason," Regina adds, trying hard to be unaffected here, but he knows her far too well.

"Mmm, when I take you home tonight I think I may go a bit outside of what is reasonable." He nips at her earlobe, and she catches Mary Margaret giving her a knowing smirk.

"That sounds perfect," she agrees, already craving more alone time with him, despite having an abundance of it since she got back.

"So, best Christmas you ever had— that you can remember anyway— what was it?" Mary Margaret asks the group, already a little tipsy from brandy and wine.

"This one," Regina says easily, cuddling into Robin.

She's gotten everything she ever wanted and has a family that truly loves her for who she is.

She loves Christmas, always has, but this is the only year she can truly say she enjoyed every moment of the holiday.

And there are only sweeter Christmases to come.


End file.
